


Kingdoms

by TheStrange_One



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Harry Osborn, Alpha Wade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arachnophobia, Fluff, Gore, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I am so sorry, Magic, Multi, Mutants, Omega Mary Jane Watson, Omega Peter Parker, Omega Verse, Political Intrigues, Science, Stillbirth, Vampires, Violence, because I said so, contractions, huge spiders just warning you, torture reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 112
Words: 93,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrange_One/pseuds/TheStrange_One
Summary: The five kindgoms are living in peace until the Ajax kingdom decides to invade the Wilson kingdom, taking its prince prisoner. Warriors from the Arachnid kingdom rush to the rescue.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, but now that I've started I'm committed to finishing.

Okay, this one is a very different tone than my last work. It is. There will still be humor, there will be fluff, and there will be action-oriented gore, but there’s more. This is an entirely different landscape. Still reading? Okay.

The world is a single continent (because I said so) divided into five different kingdoms. Each kingdom is ruled by a Goddess, has both an official name and a nickname. Still with me? Okay.

The first kingdom is Wilson Kingdom (work with me here), also known as the Reaper Kingdom. Their goddess is Death which isn’t, exactly death, but more of a goddess of balance. Less randomly killing people and more keeping ecosystems healthy kind of balance. Still death, so she has the ability to make people immortal. Please, dear reader, keep that in mind.

The second kingdom is the Ajax Kingdom, also known as the golden country. Most of the world’s gems and metals are mined in Ajax. Their goddess is the goddess of prosperity (also known as greed because that’s how humans are), and literally has the ability to turn things into gold.

The third kingdom is the Morphio Kingdom (because I grew up watching the 90’s cartoon so bite me), also known as the vampire kingdom. They are a mix of vampires and other mostly-human creatures. Theirs is the goddess of blood (duh) and they are known as healers. They do not sparkle in the sun, but lose most of their vampiric abilities, which means they lose the ability to heal.

The fourth kingdom is Arachne (no relation to the child from my previous fic; she’s not in this one). Their goddess is the spider goddess (again, duh). Now, I feel certain that someone noticed the _aracnophobia_ tag on this fic. If not, I am drawing your attention to it now. None of the characters are aracnophobic. They just aren’t. The arachnid kingdom is so named because it has giant spiders that do things that other kingdoms use creatures like horses, cats, and dogs for. They are pets, friends, and members of the family. This may or may not have something to do with how I used to have an (almost) unhealthy obsession with the show _Spider Riders_. For those of you familiar with it, no Shadow in this one, sadly. (And that ending was a total copout!)

The fifth kingdom is Mysterio (because even if he was a crappy villain it’s a cool name), also known as magic kingdom (please don’t sue me Disney). Theirs is the goddess of knowledge, and they are the most technologically advanced of the five kingdoms. Think the one steel age kingdom among the bronze age countries around it.

The first three kingdoms are in the north, and take up the northern half of the continent, while the other two have pretty evenly divided the bottom half of the continent. I made a rough map (because I’m working in Libre Paint which isn’t much better than actually drawing it out and my art sucks rotten eggs).

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, originally had the map I made here, but the site won't let me post it, so all in your imagination, I guess.

 

 

 

 

I miss Office Paint.

Still here? Good. Enjoy the first chapter (which is actually the prologue, but who’s counting?).

Oh, you noticed the ABO tag? Let me take a moment to explain how that works in this story. First of all, people in this realm have two genders; a primary gender and a secondary gender. In most stories with this tag Betas make up the majority of the population. Not this one. In this one, Betas are gender-neutral (infertile) and are a rare minority. The other two secondary genders are Alpha and Omega. Alphas are fierce, protective, and virile. They go into a rut where their sperm count is insanely higher than normal. They also have, pardon the crude language, large penises. At the top of the penis is a retractable barb that will spike into a mate as the base of the penis swells with semen and locks in. Omegas have heats (bi-monthly cycles) where their bodies are primed and ready for a mate. (Please note that secondary genders are not related to primary—male/female genders.)

Both Alphas and Omegas have glands located on either side of their necks. When bonding each will puncture a gland on the other. Said gland will inflame, swell, and will lighten to a shining silver. Bonding also elicits an emotional connection between the two mates, as one will know what the other is feeling.

There are also commands in this; that can be used by either Alpha or Omega—and only work on the mate. This land is full of magic, and that includes brainwashing magic. Commands evolved in order to protect a mate, the main purpose is to shock the mate out of the magic.

Got it? Good. Still here?

I hope you enjoy it.


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper gets invaded by Ajax and the Arachnid kingdom learns about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I didn't want to post the first chapter without also posting the warning before this. So if you read that, and are still reading--thank you. I hope you let me know what you think.

The army quickly overran the small castle. The moat, which had been created to repel intruders, was quickly forded. The walls, built high and smooth as possible, were quickly scaled due to the superior numbers of the oncoming horde. They built ramps out of their own bodies to reach the top of the walls. Soon enough, the ones that made it inside reached the drawbridge and cut the ropes holding it up.

Less than an hour afterwards all of the inhabitants of the castle had either been killed or rounded up. Those that weren’t dead were taken to the courtyard and bound roughly with rope. The leader of the army smiled as he strut in front of his prisoners. The moonlight over the castle bleached all color from the scene, but the leader knew who he was looking for.

Spotting his target a hand darted down and hauled the bound man up. “And there you are,” purred the leader of the army. “Are you ready to submit?”

Long hair, glowing gold even in the moonlight, framed the angular face. “We will never submit to you,” his captive said.

“Oh, _never_ is a long time,” the army leader said. “All right,” he ordered his men, “throw the rest of these into whatever excuse for a dungeon this castle has.” He shook the one he was holding. “This one is going to need—a more personal treatment,” he said. 

 

The reigning monarch, the Queen of the Arachnid kingdom, surveyed her court. Many of the couriers were arguing about the best action to take over the heinous actions of the Golden kingdom. They were pretty evenly split down the middle on whether they believed it was better to attack the Golden kingdom to reclaim Death’s Lands, or to wait and see what happened. There was only one opinion she wanted to hear. 

Her emerald eyes scanned the court until they fell upon one of the priests. The priests, who were ostensibly  _not_ taking sides. As representatives of the Goddess, they were neutral to all courtly debates. As fellow humans, they had their own opinions.

Queen Mary banged her scepter against the ground, the hard bronze striking sharply against the stone. “I have heard all positions,” she said with a calmness that she did not feel. “And I will make a decision.  High Priest Parker!” she called.  The court stilled as she rose from her throne, the wispy linen hanging off her tall, lean frame. “I desire the consultation of the Goddess,” she said as she stepped away from the throne (a large bronze affair depicted with all the different spiders of the kingdom) and towards the group. She led the priest, who obediently followed in his dark linen robes, to the gardens.

None of the court—not courier, priest, or servant—dared to enter the garden while the Queen was in there. For a moment the two simply strode through the tall, ridged trees.  The light purple blossoms scented the air. “Has the Goddess granted you with advice?” she asked.

High Priest Parker, Peter, the child she’d grown up with, bowed slightly to her. “No, Majesty,” he said simply. “The Goddess has granted me no wisdom for this occasion.”

It was nothing more than she’d expected. Wisdom from the Goddess usually came in the form of warnings for natural disasters, not advice on how to help a country whose prince had been captured by another nation. A brutal nation.  The Ajax were not known for their gentle treatment of prisoners.

“And you? Peter?” she asked transforming them from Queen and High Priest to Peter and MJ, old childhood friends.

The carved bronze staff Peter held creaked in his grip as he stared out, unseeing, at the garden. “I want to save him,” he said quietly.

“Good,” said Queen Mary, with a firm nod. She put a hand on his shoulders. “You will take my army, you will save him, and you will make sure those bastards know what will happen to anyone who dares to threaten our allies.”

Dark brown eyes met emerald green ones. “With pleasure,” he said firmly.

 

That night he knelt in the temple, in front of the alter of the Goddess. He felt the change in the air behind him as the Goddess blessed the world with Her presence. “You have asked for no blessing, my priest,” she said, her voice that of an old, careworn woman.

“I deserve none,” Peter responded without hesitation. “Ajax is a country defined by its soldiers.” He opened his eyes and stared at the statue, not seeing the carved marble. “They are a horde, eating into their neighbors. If I was a true councilor I would council caution. I would council for us to sit and wait as we build our own reserves of military forces. And I would council this because Ajax will not be satisfied with what it has gained from its neighbors—and if they keep up, they will soon be neighbors with us and it will take all we have to keep our people safe from them.”

“Tell me my priest,” said the Goddess, “why have you not counseled your queen so, when this is what you believe?”

P eter remembered Wade. The two of them had only met a few times before, but a bond had sprung up between them. The cheerful, loud, crude person had become someone Peter cared for. Someone he loved. “I have to save him,” Peter said. He knew it was the wrong thing, that this was the wrong time to attack the golden kingdom—but it was true. He was willing to do whatever he had to in order to find and rescue Wade. His other half.

T wo hands of the Goddess reached over and held themselves over his glands, coolness coating them. “You do,” she affirmed. “With this blessing, you will not receive your heat until after you and your mate are home and safe. Call on me in the morning and I will grant the entire army this blessing.”

“I—I am not worthy of this,” Peter said as guilt roiled through his gut.

“This is a matter,” the goddess said implacably, “that must be resolved. You must rescue your mate. Ajax must be halted in its conquest. Whether you feel you are worthy or not, you are My Priest.”

The presence of the goddess faded from the temple, but Peter still did not rise. The acolytes knew better than to bother him as he spent the night in contemplation and prayer.

 

In the morning, before gathering to set off, Peter meticulously groomed Spot, his spider,  who leaned into the brush and chirred softly . Like most of the temple’s belongings, Spot had been offered as a mere spidling to the temple, and was now almost seven years of age. “Almost time for you to think about catching the eye of a lady spider,” murmured Peter as he used the small brush to make sure the fine hairs on Spot’s legs were dirt free.

“I don’t even want to know what that thing’s spidlings will look like,” a voice commented from the door of the stall.

Peter stood to see his old childhood friend and grinned. “Harry!” he said, greeting the esteemed general’s son. “Good to see you!”

The other man shook his head with a grin. “I can’t believe it,” he said eyes roaming over the spider. “I mean, I knew the temple got weird stuff—but Peter, this thing is a monster.”

Peter took a step back and looked at Spot objectively. The two legs in the back were the longest of the eight, with the next two pairs slowly decreasing in size until the last two, which were the shortest and almost looked like they had lost part of their limbs. The spider was  mostly black with white speckles all over it, hence his name.  His two mandibles were neither bigger nor longer than those of other spiders, but were perfectly proportioned—and perfectly positioned. Unlike many other types of spider, Spot had no trouble bringing food to his mouth. 

As Peter regarded the spider it leaned a leg against him, reminding him of the brush. “He’s wonderful,” Peter said with a smile at the vain thing  as he began brushing the leg again. The spider cooed at the attention.

Harry merely sighed. “I hope he’s up for a long trek,” the young man worried. “It’s a long march  to the conquered castle.”

Peter could hear the worry in his friend’s voice. “I think it will be okay,” he said as he got Spot’s saddle. The spider hummed in pleasure—he loved going out. “When we muster,” he said, knowing that, as head priest, he’d be next to Harry at the head of the army, “I’m going to call for a blessing.”

Harry nodded. “I think that would be an excellent idea,” he said firmly. “We’re already nervous enough about the long trek.”

Later, in front of all the mounted soldiers, Peter held his hands in the air and called for the blessing of the goddess. He could hear the several intakes of breath as the others, just as he had, felt the coolness envelop their glands. “With this blessing,” Peter told them, “not one of us will have either heat or rut until we are all home safe!” A loud, relieved cheer met his words. No one liked the thought of being caught in that so far from home.

Then it was time to set out.


	3. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army, with reinforcements, makes plans to retake the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. We get to see a little more of Peter in his element. I'm not sure if the next chapter is going to be the distraction, or a meanwhile in the castle one.

The army pulled off the road before they reached the clear stretch of land to the small castle. The invaders within the castle knew, of course, that the army was coming, but they hoped to make the invaders think that the oncoming army was much smaller than it actually was.  Especially since, to everyone’s surprise, a force delegation from  Morphio arrived to help them rescue the captured prince.

Nothing from Mysterio—Peter rather thought they were trying to stay out of the potential oncoming war. Part of him raged at their cowardice. Part of him agreed with it; after all, he would have advised the same to his queen—if the prince taken had not been Wade.

The rest of him planned. If this was what he had to take a conquered castle, then he would use it to the best of his abilities.  He looked at Felicia, ambassador of Morphio. “What can your people do?” he asked her quietly. Wade had told him once that these forests twisted sound in strange ways, muffling some conversations and broadcasting others, almost as though the forest was alive.

Felicia frowned, platinum locks falling forward as she regarded the priest. “Most of us,” she said warily, “are healers.”

Peter nodded as his mind searched through all the information it had on Morphio—and its healers. “If I remember correctly,” he said looking into her sharp blue eyes, “the healers can only work after the sun sets?”

She nodded and pushed her hair back again. A slight line of tension seemed to release itself. Harry, commander of the army, noticed. “What are you thinking Peter?” he asked.

Peter pulled out the map. Once, when they were all children, Peter, MJ, and Harry had come to this very castle so that MJ could meet the young prince. Both kingdoms had hoped to have a match to tie the two kingdoms together in the future—but the one that Wade had connected to hadn’t been MJ, but Peter. The two of them had escaped the castle to go roaming around this very forest.

“There’s a secret passage here,” he said clinically as he pointed on the map. “I’m going to take a small group with me and we’ll go in.” He looked up at his friend. “Harry, Ajax and Reaper don’t have spiders like we do, in our kingdom.” He gnawed his lip with thought. “They might prove to be the best distraction and greatest intimidation that we have. Take our cavalry and face the main gates of the castle—be as distracting as possible.”

“If we’re going for distraction,” Harry muttered, “we should put your monster in at the front.”

Peter merely grinned. “I have a different mission for Spot,” he said firmly. “Now,” he said turning his attention back to the ambassador, “I need you to keep those without any  fighting skills in the back. We’re going to try to stage this at dusk, in order to give them as much time as possible to fight.” He grimaced as a particularly annoying bird sang in the canopy. The summer day might have been beautiful, but it meant the night, when the healers would be able to work, would be short.

Felicia frowned. “It’s not easy to keep a healer from the fight,” she told him.

“Do it anyway,” Peter ordered. “They can’t help if they’re victims who need healed,” he added, trying to find a line of logic that she could use to make them follow orders.

She nodded and Harry spoke up. “If we’re going for intimidation,” he mused, “you should put on the full regalia of a high priest.”

Felicia’s gaze snapped to Peter. “You’re a High Priest?” she asked warily.

Peter knew what she was thinking; those the goddesses chose were almost always much older—and usually beta, or had taken a vow of celibacy for the order. Peter, a clearly fertile omega, was neither of these, and he knew it.  Peter suddenly grinned. “You think a ceremony would scare them?”

“I’ve heard,” Felicia said slowly, “that in Ajax they banned the worship of their goddess.” The others looked at her in shock. She nodded grimly.

“Well,” said Peter with a sly smile, “that will not do.”

“So we have a plan.” Harry grinned at the map and slapped his friend on the back. “I’m glad you made it; if I had things would go horribly wrong.”

“They might go wrong now too.” Peter gazed at the map thoughtfully. “Does anyone know how far an Ajax bow shoots? I want to be out of bow shot.”

Harry looked alarmed. “Peter,” he said with a frown, “what are you thinking?”

“If we’re going to intimidate them,” Peter murmured, “then we’d best give them a show.”


	4. Captive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is trapped in the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right my lovely audience, once again I bring your attention to the warning tags. This chapter has most of them. No actual torture, but you can guess what happened. And the story moves on.

For a few, blissful moments, the world was peaceful. There were no screams, no pain, no fire. It was almost perfect. Even here, even now, part of him was reaching for his other half and crying out in pain that he couldn't find it.

Two hands wrapped around him in a hug and tears fell down his face. He knew what that hug meant. “No,” he protested.

“I’m sorry,” the goddess replied. “It must be done.”

He opened his eyes, burning in the smoky heat, as a pair of silk-clad hands reached down and grabbed his chin. “So you really won’t die,” said the voice of the intruder. Ajax. No, not Ajax. _Francis_.

He coughed and blood flew from his lips. “Not—be—fore—you,” he wheezed.

“Still cheeky,” said Francis, cold eyes glinting with displeasure. “Well, we’ll figure out a way to break you. You can’t die, and you’ve even started healing. Well, if we can’t break you by breaking you, perhaps we should start on some of the others in this castle. Who are you close to?”

Before he could do anything the sound of drums vibrated through the castle. Familiar drums. Soothing drums.

“What’s going on now?” demanded Francis as he stood up, allowing the head to drop back to the chest under it.

An image flashed through the broken mind, once—too fast to catch. Then, as the drumming increased in frequency it settled deeper in his mind. That of a young man, curly brown hair, and a vibrant, loving smile.

Peter.

At once he was washed with the conflicting emotions of wanting to yell, to scream, to make sure the other man left and was nowhere near the danger—and of gloating. Peter was smart; he wouldn't be here without both a plan and the means to make it work. A low, raspy chuckle wormed its way out of the damaged throat. “You’re fucked now,” the growl came, almost unintelligible.

It was just loud enough. “You think?” demanded the cold voice. Francis turned to two of his underlings. “Bring him. Let’s just see what they think they’re doing.”

As the mess of wood and leather holding his body together was moved his vision grayed.

 

_He watched the young man reach out and pet the ugliest spider he had ever seen. “That,” he said as the spider’s eyes closed and it leaned into the caress with a satisfied little chirr, “is the scariest thing I have ever seen.”_

_Laughter, clear and strong like a bell, rang out from the young man as he continued to pet the monster in front of him. “Spot’s just a darling,” he said fondly. Without warning the hand reached out and grabbed a shirt, pulling the point of view closer._

_Two large, muscled hands reach out and keep the view from getting closer. “Now, Petey,” the voice said reasonably, “it’s too soon.”_

_Another laugh. “Is it?” asked the young man._

 

The mess of wood and leather was slammed into the ground, jolting him out of the memory. Shame. It was a nice memory and much nicer than where he was now.

“What are they _doing_?” demanded Francis.

“I believe,” the young alpha at his side said nervously, “it’s a ritual. For their goddess.”

A small part of him that still remembered how Peter’s mind worked said, _No, it’s a display to freak you out. Something to make you easier to defeat._

No one, outside of Arachne, knew the spiders that were part of every—and he meant _every_ , no matter how poor—household in the kingdom. He remembered being a small child on his first official visit staring at a kid playing with a ball and a huge spider that came to the kid’s knees, like it was a dog. But that wasn’t all the spiders could do. Some of them were large enough to ride and those, unlike the horses that the other countries were used to, could do something else—they could _dance_.

He didn’t know, he couldn't see, but he bet that was what was happening now. He could almost— _almost_ \--see it in his mind’s eye, the way the spiders would leap into the air, silk trailing behind them to form patterns.

Fingers dug into raw, bleeding skin and he looked up into the cold eyes once more. “So,” Francis spat, “they wish to get the blessings of their _goddess_? Let them try.”


	5. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and his group distract the invading army before seizing the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Wade appears at the end of this--and he is not in good shape my audience.

Peter had heard that, in some kingdoms, priests wore large voluminous robes for official ceremonies.  Wade had once told him that the high priest for his kingdom wore so many layers of clothes that the man would drown if he fell into water. Both of them thought that much clothing, for an official ceremony, was ridiculous.

In Arachne the priests wore clothes made from the silk their spiders spun, dyed in the colors of the goddess. Peter, a better hand at sewing than most priests, had not only dyed his in the colors of the goddess, but had also patterned it into the shape of the webs his spider tended to spin. Like most Arachnid priestly outfits, his ceremonial garb was a single, almost skin-tight piece of clothing. He didn’t wear boots with his outfit, because they would only get in the way.

Peter changed Spot’s saddle from the riding one to the ceremonial one (packed by the temple acolytes against his wishes just in case, and he made a mental note to thank them for their foresight) and the spider danced in place with excitement. Spot knew what the saddle meant, and he loved the ceremonial dancing—much more than the boring marching that the army  _had_ been doing.

“Ready to show off?” Peter asked his behemoth with a grin. The spider waved its mandibles and forelegs in the air in excitement before dropping so that Peter could easily get into the standing saddle. Blessed with the ability to climb as spiders did, Peter stood on the thin leather, thin enough he could use his feet to guide Spot through it, and grinned. He knew, thanks to Wade, how the average person from Reaper would react to the sight of a human riding what their brains insisted was a _huge-fucking-monster_ , and he was almost certain that the same could be said for the men from Ajax.

Harry, in a supportive move that was designed to be just as threatening to the invaders, and somehow rounded up six of the large drums that accompanied a traditional dancing ceremony. The soldiers began to beat the drums and, despite the severity of the situation, Peter felt fierce joy ripple through him. Like his spider, he liked to show off.

The odd proportions of Spot’s legs meant that he was made for one thing that other spiders struggled with—jumping. Spot leaped into the air, time and time again, trailing thin tendrils of silk behind him. And, as he’d been taught, this was thin silk, not sticky silk. Couldn’t risk trapping the army behind them, after all.

Just as Peter had predicted, the Ajax took to the castle walls and tried to shoot the dancers down. Their arrows fell just short of the distance. Peter had calculated it based on what Felicia told him and hoped that it looked like they had divine protection against the arrows, and not like they were being taunted right outside their range.  He wanted them frightened, not enraged.

When the ceremony was over he rode Spot—muttering and complaining because he wanted to dance some more—back to the front lines. Felicia, delegate from Morphio, stared at him, eyes wide and jaw open. “Well,” said Peter with satisfaction as he dismounted from his spider, “I hope they have the same reaction you are.” Her mouth closed with a snap as he pat the disgruntled spider on the abdomen. “We’ll dance more later, you big baby,” he said affectionately. The spider heaved a dramatic sigh before lumbering over to where the other spiders (that weren’t in the guard with the drums) were waiting.

“So,” said Felicia, eyes dark, “let’s talk about this secret passage.”

He gave her the gist of it as Harry and the first line of spiders (Harry had divided the cavalry into three units so there would always be one rested as they attacked the castle) charged. None of them expected to make it over the walls—the castle had been designed by people who knew what Arachne could bring to the field against them, even if the two countries had been at peace for as long as anyone could remember.

Peter, with his handpicked group of scouts and Felicia (who apparently wasn’t one of the healers of the delegation), made their way, under the cover of the failing light, towards the rear of the castle where the entrance was located. For a moment, as they waited for the optimal time to enter, he was assailed with doubt. Some of these young warriors he was leading into battle were going to die. More in the front lines, far from their homes—and all because he, their high priest, was selfish and wanted to rescue his mate.

A shift in the breeze brought his attention to the coolness coating his glands and he realized that there was much more at stake in this battle than just rescuing a captured mate. The Ajax had  _rejected their goddess—_ and they had to be stopped. The five goddesses of the world were the guardian forces against evil, and as such needed the support of their followers.  The Ajax, who had rejected their goddess, couldn't be allowed to prevail.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly.

In order to maximize their stealth, none of them were on their spiders, but that didn’t mean that their spiders were just waiting around doing nothing. No, their spiders were spinning webs, carefully positioned so that the light coming from the torches of the castle would glint off of them. Peter hoped the soldiers found it unnerving.

The entrance was a small tunnel dug into the side of the hill, below the moat, that the castle was on. Peter had no idea why the tunnel was there, but he appreciated it now. “Remember,” he told his troops before they slipped in, “our main goal is to get the drawbridge down so the main army can come through. Secondary goal is to rescue the captives.”

“Especially the prince,” said Felicia, eyes glinting in the dim light. 

“ _All_ of the captives,” Peter said firmly, unwilling to be selfish any longer. “Ready? Let’s go.” He led the way. Like the rest of his group, Peter carried a short sword with him and used it to hack down the webs as they trudged through the dust, proving that the last people through this tunnel had probably been Peter and Wade as children.

They came up, through the wine and root cellar, and surprised the men in there. Silently, they killed all the shocked soldiers. Peter took a moment, despite not being a priest of their goddess, despite being their enemy, despite the fact they had renounced their own goddess, to pray for their souls.

His men filtered through the castle as he prayed and Felicia watched him with narrow eyes. “You,” she told him when he finished, “are the scariest person I have ever met.”

Peter snorted as he readied his own blade again. “Clearly you haven’t met enough people,” he told her as they made their way into the castle. There was a hollow, booming thunk as the drawbridge collapsed. He nodded with satisfaction as he made his own way into the fray, searching through the castle. In one room he found a limp body, clearly tortured, hanging by thin leather strips riveted to a wooden frame.

Despite the fact it appeared that parts of the man’s body had been literally skinned alive, despite the burns and cuts, despite the swelling—Peter’s heart recognized the almost unrecognizable human.

“Wade.”


	6. Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army has retaken the castle, but what are they to do with it and the captured enemy soldiers?

The battle had been short and fierce. There weren’t a lot of survivors, but one of them was the man who had masterminded the original invasion of the castle. Harry looked at them, bound with hands behind their backs, forced into a kneeling position in the courtyard. Most of them were frightened and cowed—but not the one who had led them.

Behind him Peter was leading a ceremony to bless and guide all the souls lost in the battle—even those of the enemy. Harry had a feeling that the ceremony was contributing to sense of fright in the soldiers in front of him. “ This is unprecedented,” he said conversationally to the people in front of him. “It has been so long since one kingdom invaded another that no one is entirely certain what we’re supposed to do with the survivors.” The one who had led them glared at Harry, but said nothing while another couple of soldiers anxiously glanced at the spiders. “They don’t eat humans,” Harry told them reassuringly.”

Felicia, in her black suit (official garb of the ambassador for Morphio), strode up and looked at the captured invaders. “I think,” she said lightly, “that we should let High Priest Peter decide what to do with them.” Her blue eyes raked over the soldiers with disgust.

The leader of the invaders curled his lip in disdain. “You would allow a  _priest_ to dictate your terms to the enemy?”

To his clear surprise Harry grinned. “Why not?” he asked mildly. “That priest was the one who came up with the battle plan to get into the castle. Well done on playing into it, by the way. I expected us to have a lot more casualties on our side.”

The man growled, identifying himself as an alpha. Odd how little pheromones the invaders had—Harry and his army were pheromone free, for the moment, as a blessing from their goddess. What was keeping the smell of the invaders at bay?

“It is finished,” Peter said as he walked up to them. His hands were formally clasped in front of him and he was still wearing his regalia. “They are ready for the pyre, now,” he added sadly.

Harry grasped the priest by the shoulder. “How is he?” he asked with sympathy. He couldn't imagine what he’d do if he found Mary Jane in the same position that Peter had found Wade in.

“Still sleeping. One of the healers wants my help to ask for the blessing of his goddess so that he can heal.” Peter’s eyes were closed. He opened them, they lit on the man responsible for the state that his mate was in, and they tightened. Peter looked away and took a deep breath.

“What do you think we should do?” Harry asked Peter.

Peter held his hands together, eyes closed, in meditation for a moment. The dark brown eyes opened. “If I was in charge,” he said slowly, “I would take all of the survivors of the attack with us to Arachne, move the captured soldiers to the field outside the castle, and burn the castle as a pyre for the dead.”

“You can’t do that!” protested the enemy leader, face crimson.

Harry couldn't help but think of how diabolically merciful Peter’s suggestion was,  for all the parties involved. The survivors would get more access to the healers as they traveled back to the capitol of their country. The enemy soldiers would have absolutely  _nothing_ to show as either victory or defeat—and would have to explain all of that to whomever sent them to conquer the castle. Plus, burning the castle sent a clear message to the King of Reaper—you could have saved your son, you didn’t, and now he’s ours. Harry grinned at the confirmation of what he already knew; Peter was a kind, merciful soul—but he was not a forgiving one.

“Sounds good to me,” said Harry with satisfaction over the protests of the enemy leader. “What about you Felicia? It seems that you should have some say here.”

Her bright blue eyes tracked between Harry, Peter, and the captured enemy leader. Crimson lips turned up in a smile. “Would you terribly mind if we traveled with you to the capitol?” she asked. “I would like to give a report to Her Majesty on behalf of my King.”

Harry bowed with a wry grin. “We would be honored to escort you, My Lady,” he said gallantly. “All right,” he said turning to his own soldiers. “ Take these captured combatants to the field outside.” He turned and grinned at the captured leader once again. “And think how different that advice might have been,” he said, “had you treated the captured prince with respect.”

The bodies, enemy and ally alike, were lined up in the courtyard with grave respect and courtesy as the enemy soldiers were taken outside of the castle. Flammable materials were brought in and packed around the bodies while the army got ready to withdraw. Soon a single torch was tossed into the keep, and the fire began to merrily burn. Even if the castle survived, the ruling monarch of this land would never dare his goddess’s wrath by inhabiting it once again.

As one unit the group watched as the fire raged, heating the stone and burning the bodies inside the castle. Once again, Peter led a prayer for the deceased, a prayer calling for the departed souls to find a new home, free of all pain and heartache, in the afterlife. Harry did not join the prayer—he was too busy keeping an eye on the enemy leader. He didn’t know why, but he felt certain that they would come to regret letting the man live. He appeared to be the vindictive, vengeance seeking sort.

Still, the decision had been made, agreed upon, and put into action. He could not simply kill the man now, no matter how satisfying he would personally find it. When the flames died down he turned to his army once more. “It is time,” he told them, “to start the march home.”


	7. Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter petitions the goddess for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely last chapter before bed. I should not have stayed up this late. Egads! If anyone is still reading this (and I honestly can't tell, hard to without comments), I hope you enjoy! And if it's fallen by the wayside and people have wandered off, well, it'll be a while before I start something else. :)

“Thank you,” said the young vampire as Peter knelt beside the cot Wade was laid out on. The young omega’s eyes darted wildly around—even as beat up as he was Wade was still producing scent. The woman was not protected, as those of the Arachnid army were, from the pheromones. “None of our priests made the journey with us.”

“Most priests don’t leave their home temple,” Peter said gently, without judgment as he got into prayer position. While it was rare for a priest to call upon a goddess that they, personally, did not serve, it did happen.

Within moments his mind was taken to the blank space that the goddesses could use to speak to their followers outside of a temple. He expected, at most, to be greeted by three goddesses; the goddess he was sworn to, the goddess of Wade’s kingdom, and the goddess of Morphio. He was shocked to find himself facing, not just those three, but also the goddess of Ajax. He quickly knelt, much to their amusement.

“You have come to ask for a blessing, my priest,” the goddess of Arachne said with a sweet smile for the young man. “We have answered.”

“It was those I looked after who have hurt your mate,” the goddess of Ajax said sadly.

“It is not your fault,” Peter assured her. “They have renounced you.”

There was a murmuring chuckle from the assembled goddesses. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard one of them say, “I told you.” He did not look up—it would be rude.

“We have all decided to give your mate blessings, to prepare the both of you for what is to come,” The goddess of Morphio said kindly.

“Not all of us,” said the goddess of Arachne.

“She has always cautioned knowledge and patience,” the goddess of Reaper said calmly. “She is not one to take rash action. Are you will, Priest of Arachne? You must be warned that this is a moment on which the history of all the land will pivot—although none but us will ever know. Can you accept this burden? Can you accept what this will mean for the two of you?”

Peter thought. He had no idea what burden the goddess was referring to. Part of him wanted to scream that he’d do anything, _anything_ at all, just to have Wade with him. The rest of him—the rest of him argued caution. A blessing could be a gift or a curse—or even both at the same time. It was possible that to heal Wade would mean that he would live, forever, in unimaginable pain—utterly broken and begging for the peace of death.

“I do not know,” he said finally. “I do not know if I can accept it, for I do not know what it could cost. I do not know what it would mean. I do know that I will, if allowed, do everything within my power to follow what I believe to be right and true.”

“And he will follow you.”

The words were soft, but hummed through his body like the beat of a drum. _He will follow you._ Would he? Would Wade really follow him? Peter knew that, if Wade needed him, he would track the alpha down to the ends of the world, but was the same true?

It didn’t matter. Whether or not Wade would do the same for Peter, whether or not Peter knew it, Peter would go to the ends of the world if Wade needed him. This was no different.

“Well done. Now, open your eyes and share these blessings with your mate, my priest.”

Peter opened his eyes to see that there was a glowing ball of light between his hands. It was shifting between the orange of a campfire, blue of the hottest flame, red of the setting sun, and the yellow of a candle. Quickly, before it could burn itself out, he pushed the ball into Wade’s chest. For a moment he could feel it, feel the heat through his entire body almost sending him back into the blank space—and then it was gone.

Panting Peter looked at the man, his mate, to see that wounds were already beginning to close. He would bear the scars of his torture forever, but soon he should be in no pain. He sighed in relief and, for just a moment, he rested his head on the thick chest as he took a moment to just feel the steady heartbeat inside.

He sat up as the healer pulled a blanket over the healing man. “That was—I’ve never seen anything like that,” the young omega admitted with awe.

Peter chuckled wearily. “Neither have I,” he admitted. He looked at the healing alpha on the bed and gently traced the jawline. The most obvious of the blessings was, of course, the ability to heal himself quickly. Still Peter had to wonder—

What were the other blessings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts?


	8. Standoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade wakes up.

Wade and several of the healers were in one of the wagons (taken from the small town that supported the burned castle) that had been hitched to spiders. Most of the survivors eyed the spiders warily, but one of them, a former castle guard, rode his horse next Peter. The horse, having better instincts than most of the humans, was perfectly calm.  After all, spiders didn’t eat horses, or people.

“How did you get into the castle?” asked the guard. His dark hair rippled in the light wind as they made their way back down the road to home. “I thought we had all ways into the castle blocked.” He grimaced. “Not well, obviously.”

“You just don’t like the idea that you overlooked something,” Peter finished in explanation. “Well, you didn’t overlook anything. Spiders,” he added giving a misleading truth, “can climb walls.”

“Can’t plan for that,” muttered the guard.

Actually, it had been planned for. That was one of the reasons for the moat. Since the guard hadn’t been in the  castle proper (the invaders had thrown the entire population except for Wade into the dungeons) he didn’t  see that several of the rescuers (including Peter himself) had entered the castle without spiders. 

Peter spared a moment to be grateful that the tunnel had still been there. Plan B would have been getting Spot to jump across the moat leaving a silk that could be used to help get the others across. All it would have taken would be one lucky idiot with a bow at that point to kill them.

Suddenly there was a commotion behind him and he whirled on Spot to see that one of the wagons broke open as a scarred, partially raw man dropped to the ground with a weapon in both hands.  Spot obeyed the unspoken command to turn in place and rush towards the man—who was flooding the air with so many pheromones that Peter could taste them on his tongue. He vaguely recognized the two short swords the man was holding as the main weapons from the Morphio delegation as the man was surrounded by soldiers from Arachne.

“Hold!” Peter ordered. He wasn’t sure they heard him.

Spot was having none of this tension. He reared back onto his two rear pairs of legs, waving his front two pairs in the air and gave the crackling hiss that only exceptionally upset spiders made. The sound cut through the soldiers getting their attention. The man didn’t twitch, just held his weapons at the ready. 

“Hold!” Peter repeated. He leaped off Spots back as the spider anxiously rubbed its mandibles together and physically moved one of the soldiers out of his way. “Move!” he ordered.

“Peter, don’t!” called Harry.

Peter ignored him. He stepped closer to the wounded man, and wondered what he was seeing. “Wade,” he said gently as he passed the circle of soldiers. “It’s me.” The hands gripped the swords tighter, but there was no other movement.

Peter’s heart thudded harshly and his throat began to close as tears sprang to his eyes. What had they done to his fun loving alpha? What had  _he_ done?  Was Wade going to exist in pain, in a world that was not here, as a danger to himself and others forever?

“Wade,” he tried again taking another step closer. “Wade, it’s Peter.”

There was a slight reaction, a mere jerk of the head. Peter took another step closer. He could almost hear the soldiers wondering if their high priest was about to die—but he couldn’t leave Wade. He just couldn't leave him like this.

“Peter.” The word rasped through a raw throat and Peter felt weak with relief.

“That’s right,” he affirmed taking another step closer. He was close enough to touch the man now, but held back. He wanted to make sure Wade was in his right mind. “Peter.”

Suddenly Wade dropped the swords and held the younger omega. “Peter,” he said again, nuzzling the neck over the scent glands. The scent glands that were still coated in the blessing from the goddess. Still, Wade must have smelled something to tell him that this was Peter, because his grip tightened as he began to shake. “Peter,” he whispered again.

Peter reached out and hugged him, slightly dwarfed in the older man’s frame. “Peter,” he agreed. Wade wordlessly dropped as he passed out, becoming a sudden dead weight over Peter’s body. If he hadn’t already received the blessing of strength, it would have been enough to flatten him.

He heard a throat clear behind him. “All right,” said Harry. “New plan. Spot will have to fallow the wagon as you ride in it, because I don’t think he should wake up without you again. People might actually get hurt next time.”

Peter nodded and, with a slight adjustment of his body, picked Wade up. The injured man didn’t move. Not even when Spot, clearly worried, ran his two front legs over both men and keened lightly.


	9. Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the spider scouts reports back to the Queen Mary Jane, and the ambassador from Reaper gets bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tired. Hope you enjoy. Will try to post again after I get up tonight. No promises. Sleep now.

Queen Mary Jane sat with  her face in an expressionless mask as  the relay scout gave her the army’s news in front of the Reaper Ambassador. Ambassador Nathan frankly stared at the young scout in disbelief as he told the court how the army decided to burn the castle as a pyre to both the enemy and ally fallen dead. Mary wondered if her priest and soon to be mate understood the political ramifications of what they had done. Then again, from everything she had heard, perhaps they did.

“So,” she asked the young scout for clarification, “the ambassador from Morphio and a military contingent met the army before you crossed into Reaper?”

“They did, Your Majesty,” confirmed the scout.

“I see.” The queen kept her narrow gaze on the kneeling scout as the information rattled around her mind. “Tell me, did the horses from the Morphio delegation have trouble keeping up with our infantry?”

“Not at all,” replied the scout. “Commander Osborn remarked that the horses travel at the same speed as the spiders.”

Commander Osborn would. “Tell me,” ordered the Queen, “did you come across any military members from Reaper on the way to the castle?” Ambassador Nathan’s head whipped around so fast she was willing to bet that his neck would hurt later. 

“No, Your Majesty,” the scout replied. “The only people from Reaper that we came across were those that had been subjugated by the invaders.”

“Really.” The word was a sentence, not a question. She shifted her attention towards the ambassador. “It would seem,” the queen continued, “the castle had been thoroughly taken, down to the land. Surely that was the message sent by the lack armed forces?”

“That—” began the ambassador, getting red in the face.

She continued on mercilessly. “In that case, my people took an enemy outpost and, not willing to allow the enemy shelter so near either our borders or yours,  destroyed it.” She looked back at the scout, keeping an eye on the red-faced ambassador. “Tell me,” she ordered, “whose idea was it to burn the castle.”

“High Priest Parker’s, Majesty,” said the scout.

Now  _that_ was a surprise. “Were any of the enemy within the castle when it burned?”

“Only the dead Majesty. Upon guidance from High Priest Parker, the living enemy soldiers were left bound in a field after the castle burned while the army mustered out with the survivors from the invasion. Since mine is the fastest spider, Commander Osborn sent me back to report.”

In that one, single move Peter had sent three separate messages. He had told the rescued people from Reaper, “We will watch after you and treat you as our own.” He had told the enemy invaders, “You are not even worth killing, now go home you naughty children.” Most importantly of all he had told the king of Reaper himself, “You don’t want to protect these people? Then we will.”

Not for the first time, Mary Jane found herself grateful that Peter had been called to the priesthood rather than politics. She had no doubt that, if he wanted, Peter could easily control the entire country from the shadows. The greatest blessing the goddess had bestowed upon Arachne was Peter’s ultimately selfless nature.

“The prince needs to be sent home!” the ambassador said.

To the shock of the entire court, it was the scout who answered. “He can’t,” the young scout said. The scout then trembled under the weight of the look the ambassador gave him—and possibly the pheromones as well.

Queen Mary Jane released a few of her own. “You will cease that at once,” she demanded. “Or,” she added coldly, “my guards will see you out.” The man flushed—as he should at such an unseemly display—and subsided. She glared at him for a moment more before turning her attention to the  scout. “When you say the prince can’t go home, what do you mean?” Since the scout was so frazzled from the angry pheromones from the ambassador, she kept her voice gentle.

The scout swallowed a few times before reporting. “According to those that were—those that were rescued, the enemy invaders decided to—to break the prince before starting on them. They tortured him, Majesty, he looks nothing like the man he used to. The only one of us that could recognize him was the High Priest. The healers from Morphio,” the scout added, “said that only the intervention of their goddess could save him. When Commander Osborn sent me ahead, High Priest Parker was about to try to reach their goddess.”

Silence fell over the court. The healers of Morphio were known for their legendary ability to save lives. There was no reason to believe the country would have sent inferior healers on a rescue mission. For such experienced healers to be unable to heal the injured prince, and relying on a priestly request to their goddess—Wade must have been very badly injured.

And the king of Reaper—who sent no aid, sent no soldiers, and whose representative was even now taking up space in her court—wanted them to send the injured prince back. Well, the king of Reaper was just going to have to find another heir to his throne. He could have his son back over her dead body. “So it would appear,” she said musingly to her court, “that the former prince is now an acolyte.”

The ambassador frowned. “Surely you jest?” he demanded flashing the scout another glare.

She calmly laid her hands in her lap as she met his gaze with her cool one. “ Oh? Wade Wilson has just gone through a life changing, life threatening ordeal. He is now spending time in the company of a High Priest. It sounds to me,” she added slyly, “as though he is entering the priesthood.” She gave the ambassador a tight smile. “Go tell your king the good news,” she told him. “That the High Priest of Arachne is sponsoring your former prince.”

The ambassador swallowed. He knew, they all knew, that to interfere with the priesthood was to risk drawing the ire of the goddesses. No one sane wanted to risk their wrath. “I will go and deliver the good news,” he said giving a low bow before turning and quickly making his way from the court as the couriers watched him go.


	10. Recover 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade wakes up and has a horrifying realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, reference to torture in this chapter. Nothing too graphic--but I thought I'd warn you.

The first thing he noticed was that he was in no pain. Outside of the white space, that was new. It was comforting—and worrying at the same time. Why was he in no pain? Had Francis moved on to torturing someone else?

He opened his eyes and blinked in the sunlight as he moved an arm experimentally. It was weak, weaker than it should have been, but he wasn’t bound. What had happened?

“He’s awake!” The voice was equal parts pleased, frightened, and worried.

“Wade?” A face, a familiar face, crossed his vision and he looked up at the brown hair.

Wade.  _His_ name. No, not the face’s name. He knew that one. “Peter,” he whispered. The face smiled.

“He needs water,” the strange voice said.

“All right, up you go.” The face—Peter—got an arm around him and helped him sit up. A cup, almost overflowing with water, was held to his lips. “Drink slowly,” Peter said softly.

He wanted to gulp the water—it was the first he could remember having in far too long, but he was afraid of upsetting Peter. So, he sipped. It was both too slow and too fast, the amount gone long before he was satisfied.

“It’s all right,” Peter murmured, still holding him close. “There’s more water.” He handed the cup to someone else and got it back full, once more. Once again he sipped only this time, this time he felt satisfied with the water.

“If he can, he should probably eat too. I’ve got some bread here.”

“Hear that? Do you think you can eat?” asked Peter.

He wasn’t sure. He’d be willing to try, if Peter thought he needed to. “I don’t—know,” he rasped, voice both harsher than expected and not harsh enough.

“Let’s try then.” Peter shifted to where his body was behind Wade’s— _that was it, that was his name, how could he have forgotten—_ reaching arms around him with some torn bread in one hand. “Careful,” Peter ordered gently, “just like the water.” Wade took small, neat bites of the bread. Long before he had thought he would be, he was full.

“It will take time,” the nervous voice said, “to heal enough to eat more. Bread is good.”

Peter chuckled and Wade felt the sound more than heard it. “Time will heal,” Peter said as he laid his head against the top of Wade’s—who felt the silky smooth hair against his bare scalp.

Looking around without moving—he couldn't bear the thought of Peter drifting apart by even a little bit—Wade realized he was in a wagon. While Wade, himself, was not moving, the wagon was. And outside the wagon, following it, was what senses both labeled  _monster_ and  _Peter’s_ . “What is that?” he asked, voice sounding slightly more normal.

“That’s Spot.” A large leg, thicker than Wade’s forearm, poked into the wagon moving over Wade and Peter. Oddly, Wade felt nothing of threat from the leg, or the monster it belonged to. He saw Peter reach over to gently stroke the leg and then it withdrew. “He gets lonely.”

“He tried to climb _into_ the wagon,” said the voice. It sounded shaky.

Wade—almost—remembered back when he felt the same way. “I bet you let him sleep in your bed when he was a baby,” he said leaning back into Peter’s warm, comforting presence.

“As a spidling, yes,” Peter said. He could feel rather than see the younger man grinning. “He was so lonely separated from his litter.”

“Litter?” squeaked the other voice.

Wade just chuckled. “You must not be from Arachne. Take everything you know about spiders—and throw it away. Arachnid’s spiders are loving cuddle whores.” He was too weak to turn to face the owner of that voice and felt his consciousness slipping away—peacefully. “Might just—climb into— _your_ bed,” he muttered as he fell back asleep.

He could hear crackling of the fire, the hissing of the metal, and the sheer joy in his torturer’s voice at the mere thought of causing more pain.

“Wade.”

“What would it take to break you?” asked the demented man.

“Wade.”

“Perhaps there’s someone else I could torture instead. Tell me, who are you close to?”

“Wade!”

A shake and he woke up, gasping for breath as Peter held him. A small, analytical part of his mind noticed that he had the strength to sit up now. He  gasped as Peter soothingly rubbed his back, leaning against him. He could see, from the light, that it was now dark outside. “What?” he asked.

Peter leaned a cheek against his. “You had a nightmare,” he said gently. A quick, loving but chaste kiss. “Go back to sleep.”

Wade reluctantly laid down, holding Peter in his arms as he stared into the darkness inside the wagon. Outside he could hear fire crackle, probably what sparked the nightmare. People, happy, normal people instead of calculating sadistic ones, spoke to each other in low voices outside.

“ _What would it take to break you?”_

He knew the answer.  Nothing Francis had done to him could have had the chance of breaking him, because Wade was capable of taking anything. Francis’s last thought, before reinforcements arrived, before rescue arrived, were the right ones. Torturing  _Wade_ wouldn’t break him—but that was only Wade.

If anything happened to Peter, it would break him.


	11. Recover 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break in the journey home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lone chapter this morning. Weather has everyone way tired, even me. Please, if you see any grammar mistakes, point them out so I can fix them.

Wade leans against a tree in the sun dappled clearing and watches, with amusement, the reactions of both the people from Morphio and his own country when a spider the size of Harry’s head lands on his shoulder and the only reaction from the man is to hold up a piece of rabbit for the thing to eat. “You know,” he said conversationally as Peter leaned against him, “for anyone not from your country that looks downright terrifying.”

Harry laughed and held up a hand. The spider on his shoulder rubbed into it before jumping down and climbing the tree back into the wilderness once again. “It’s nothing special,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Wade snorted. “You  _say_ that,” he said with a touch of vindictiveness, “but I remember the first time that  _you_ ever saw a horse.”

“There aren’t a lot of horses in Arachne,” Peter informed the young healer that was still traveling with them. “They don’t breed very well.”

“Yeah, spiders don’t tend to eat much unless humans feed it to them,” Wade commented. He wasn’t feeling nearly as weak as he was earlier, but he didn’t want to say anything. It was nice having Peter up against him like this.

_You could have had him like this if you had just mated him sooner._

Wade  glanced around, but no one seemed to have spoken. He figured it was in his head. He hadn’t mentioned it yet, but that voice had started shortly after he woke up the first time.

“Only if humans are around,” Peter added. “There are wild spiders.” Wade merely snorted with disbelief.

“I’m actually glad you brought up the spiders,” Harry said. He turned to the young healer who was still watching them warily. “Is he strong enough to ride? I really don’t think Spot should be separated from Peter much longer. He might try to mount the wagon again.”

“He wasn’t trying to _mount_ the wagon,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “He just wanted inside!”

Y es, while they were traveling the spider—the  _giant_ spider that was huge even by Arachnid standards—decided it wanted to ride in the wagon too.  It had grabbed the wagon with its two front forelegs (scaring the daylights out of the horses who were  _still_ being soothed), hoisted itself up, and somehow tried to force itself, rear end first, into the wooden wagon while keening miserably as it failed to get in. Wade blamed Peter for letting the spider sleep in his bed while it was a baby, and suspected that somebody had used a stuffed animal to distract it long enough to get Peter out of the wagon to give his spider some tender loving care.

“Yes, well, stopping to save the wagon took a little while,” Harry said, “and I’d like to avoid the situation occurring once more.” The young healer shuddered violently next to Peter.

“He was just lonely!” Peter protested.

“Yes,” agreed Harry. “He will probably be _less_ lonely if you are actually riding him. Since I’m afraid that if Wade falls asleep when you’re not there he’ll wake up in a—less than friendly frame of mind again,” another reference to an episode Wade did not recall and he was just as glad he couldn't remember, “I’d prefer it if the both of you were on the back of the spider.”

T he healer took several deep breaths and swallowed a couple of times before answering. “I am not sure,” the healer said, “that he is well enough to ride for very long—maybe if we took frequent rests? In the interest of avoiding the spider’s distress?”

In Wade’s honest opinion the  _healer_ sounded distressed. He could only imagine how horrific it would have been for someone who knew almost nothing about the giant spiders of Arachne to suddenly have one trying to force its way into the covered wagon he was riding in. Of course, if that had been one of  _Wade’s_ first experiences with the spiders his buddy loved and raised, he probably would have felt the same as the healer.

He still smirked. “I think I’m better healed than you think I am,” he said to the healer.

The young healer nodded, reached over Peter, and gave Wade a gentle shove to the shoulder. Wade dropped like a building fell on him. “Frequent rests,” the healer reiterated.

“Frequent rests,” Harry mused out loud, “will still ultimately take less time getting us back home than stopping to rescue the wagon periodically.” There were several nods from the Arachnid soldiers.

“Do you feel like trying to ride?” asked Peter as he helped Wade sit up.

“You might have to tie me to the saddle,” Wade replied, only half joking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's a thought: after getting back to Arachne I was planning on having a little sub plot where Spot courts a lady spider. Do you think Wade should get a spider of his own?


	12. Recover 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short stop where Peter challenges Wade to a weaponless dual.

A few more days of soft journey, stopping so frequently Wade wanted to _scream_ , and he was almost back to normal. He was also frustrated with how people were avoiding telling him exactly how the rescue happened. Sure, he vaguely remembered something about Peter starting a show or a ceremony (he wasn’t sure there was a difference in Arachne) to intimidate that enemy—but that was it. Next thing Wade knew he was in a wagon with a huge spider getting lonely and wanting a ride.

He also couldn't actually get angry with them—they had trooped across an entire country (at least two of them, in the case of the Morphio people) to rescue him and he was grateful for that. He really was. Didn’t change the way they were treating him or lessen his frustration at all.

Peter noticed. He always did. “Wade, do you feel up to a sparring session?”

Wade considered it carefully. Before—before everything happened sparring with Peter would have been horribly unfair. Wade was trained by his time in the military of Reaper (and the less said about _that_ sad venture the better) and Peter was, well, trained in a temple. Instead of learning things like _stab here for killing and here for information,_ Peter was learning things like _this ceremony for blessing the land and this ceremony for blessing the people._ Not a lot of overlap.

Still, the little that he _had_ gleaned said that the plan used to take the castle back from the invaders had been Peter’s, so that priestly training couldn't have been completely useless. “Nothing with weapons,” he said slowly.

Peter smiled and Wade wondered what was running through that devious head of his. “Bare hands it is,” he agreed.

“Oh, this should be good,” Harry said. He grabbed a stick and drew a circle in the dirt for the two of them. Peter and Wade, both in traveling gear and nothing else, stepped into the circle. “You know the rules,” Harry said. “First one to shove the other out wins. No dirty tactics and yes, Peter, I’m talking to you.” Before Wade had time to wonder at that statement Harry rapped out a quick, “Go!”

Wade expected it to be over quickly. He also expected to win. He was half right.

He found himself on his back, outside the circle, with no clear idea of how that happened. “What?” he asked. He’d barely seen Peter _move_.

Peter chuckled. “You shouldn't underestimate me,” he said reaching out with a hand to help Wade sit up.

Harry’s mouth twitched as he carefully rubbed the circle out of the dirt. “Peter,” he said solemnly, “has been granted three of the spider blessings from Our Goddess. It’s one of the reasons he’s High Priest,” Harry added.

“I thought only betas were High Priests,” said Wade thoughtfully as Peter helped him to his feet.

“The goddess chooses,” Peter said with a grin. “And, this time, she chose me.”

Wade grinned back at him. “And I have no doubt,” he said firmly, “that she knew exactly what she was doing.”

“Considering that Peter has a better grasp of military and political strategy than I do,” Harry commented, “I’m surprised she also didn’t want him to govern the army.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “What good would I do there?” he demanded. “Your father already leads the army, and does it better than I ever could.”

Harry and Wade exchanged a look. It seemed that Peter’s tendency to believe that other people were somehow better than him was still firmly in place. It was—oddly reassuring. “Sure Pete,” Harry said. “That is, of course, why Dad sits with you at least once a month.”

Peter rolled his eyes again. “They’re just talks, Harry.”

“Sure they are. And it’s just coincidence that they always occur when he’s having trouble with one or more of the couriers that he figures out how to fix after talking with you. Has _nothing_ to do with your ability to read people and assess situations _at all_.” Harry gave Peter an ironic salute. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to assess the situation with my spider before we get back on the road.”

At that moment Spot came up, the jury-rigged double saddle that Peter and Wade had been riding on in his mouth as a not-so-subtle suggestion.


	13. Recover 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion in the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I was trying to keep the chapters at about the same length to make it easier on my audience--but this one kind of got away from me and I didn't want to edit any of the conversation out. Please let me know what you think about it.
> 
> Also--TRIGGER WARNINGS! I direct your attention to the tag about torture. All torture in this chapter is implied (don't want to force anyone else to have to clean a keyboard because that is no fun at all, I assure you), but you can see where it's going and where it's coming from, which may (depending on your mind) be worse. I'll put a quick summary of this chapter at the beginning of the next one if you want to skip it.

Peter was strapped into the familiar leather and wooden harness keeping his arms high above his head and his legs slightly spread apart. He was wearing nothing but a loincloth and Wade watched, with horror, as Francis stuck a bronze rod into the fire as he regarded the young, trembling man. “ I wonder where,” Francis said in his hateful, sly voice, “this will do the most damage.” Francis strode in front of Peter and looked back at Wade with a grin. “I think I know.” He ripped the loincloth away before pulling the hot metal out of the fire. “This may hurt a bit,” he added with a maniacal grin. He pushed the rod towards Peter and—

—and Wade bolted up, gasping for breath. At first all he could hear was the deep, raspy breaths as he tried to get back to normal—but slowly other sounds began to intrude. The sounds of the night insects of the forest. The odd half chirping noise Spot made while sleeping. Peter’s deep, even breaths beside him. He turned and hesitantly put a hand on the sleeping form before slightly relaxing. Here was Peter: warm, asleep, _safe_.

Wade couldn't just roll over and go back to sleep. The dream had been far too vivid. He could still hear the sound the metal made as it heated up, feel the smoke from the fire choking the air, and see the hopeless terror in Peter’s wide, frightened eyes.

Jolting himself again Wade carefully got up. He heard Peter murmur slightly in his sleep, and waited to make sure the other man didn’t wake further before leaving the tent.  He almost walked into Spot, who was lying right outside the tent flap, huge legs twitching in his sleep. Wade wanted to make a comment about people who let their spiders into bed with them—but he didn’t want to risk waking Peter up.  _One_ of them should have a good night’s sleep.

“You seem tense.”

Automatic response kicked in and Wade whirled (gracefully, he was almost back to full strength again) and pinned the young healer against against a tree. At least—he  _thought_ it was the young healer.  The healer he knew was constantly nervous and had dark hair. He should have been  stammering and babbling as he tried to get away.

This healer wasn’t. His hair shone in the moonlight through the trees and his eyes seemed to glow. More importantly he seemed a lot more confident. But—they smelled the same.

Wade realized he’d been staring too long and let go. “Sorry,” he apologized softly, not wanting to wake anyone up.

“You could have done much worse,” the healer said. Suddenly Wade was surrounded by the scent of _omega—_ but it didn’t turn him on. It couldn't—the omega in question wasn’t Peter. “You didn’t.”

The healer sounded satisfied and Wade wondered what, exactly, he hadn’t done. “You’re up late,” he commented instead.

The healer chuckled slightly and pointed canines glinted in the moonlight. “For us, we are up early. You had a bad dream.”

“Did I?” Surely something as innocent sounding as a bad dream wouldn't have felt so vivid, so real—so heartbreaking.

“You did. Would you like to talk about it? I am, after all, still your healer.”

Wade turned and stared off at the camp. He could see, now that his eyes had adjusted, tents all over the clearing. He felt certain he heard people moving around in the wagons, especially the one that he and Peter had recently been riding in. They all seemed, with the exception of the healers from Morphio, to be sleeping. Slowly, hesitantly, and softly Wade described his dream.  He waited for the healer to tell him that he was overreacting, that it was just a nightmare.

The healer didn’t. “We have had to treat people,” the healer said, “that have been tortured by those from Ajax.” As Wade stared in silence the young man continued. “See, the soldiers from Ajax will move into a certain territory, be it farm, village or castle, and will find the strongest person there. The one that the others look up to. Then they will proceed to destroy that person, piece by piece, as a message to the survivors, as a means to control the rest of them.” A moment of silence broken only by the singing of the night insects. “Some of them can be healed. Others—others never are. They relive their torture until they are granted the mercy of death, and we hope that she grants them the mercy they cannot find in life.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Reliving the torture?” asked Wade hollowly.

“I think that your torturer asked you a question and that your mind is now answering it.”

Ice flooded Wade’s body. He had already thought of that. He was afraid his mind was going to show every step of the torture he went through—happening to  _Peter_ . He couldn't bear that—it would kill him. It would do worse than kill him—it would destroy him.

He felt enraged at himself, for the fact that his mind would finish what Francis had started.

“When you were first put into my care, Priest Peter called upon our Goddess for a blessing to save your life,” the healer continued. “He received a ball of three different colors at once that was pushed into your chest making the both of you glow—and then you began to heal with a speed that none of us, none of us healers from Morphio have ever heard of before.” The healer was silent for a moment. “I have a theory.”

“Peter once told me,” Wade said softly, keeping his voice down, “that theories are our way of finding what we need to know the most.”

“Perhaps. My theory is that you are forcing yourself to heal as fast as you possibly can because you feel there is still danger to your mate-to-be. Your mind is showing you Peter being tortured not because it’s trying to break you, but to motivate you. To work harder, get stronger, and go faster. And, I also have a question. Assuming all three colors were each a different blessing, what were the other two blessings you were granted?”

Wade’s mind reeled at the implications. “I—I don’t know.”

The young healer nodded. “ I do not believe,” he responded quietly, “that even Priest Parker knows what they are. But know this—the bulk of those blessings may have gone into you, but they touched him first.” The healer sighed. “But this philosophical talk is not helping you get to sleep any more. Go back to your tent, cuddle your mate-to-be, and sleep. Perhaps things will look better in the morning.”

“Perhaps.” Wade followed the instructions. After all; the man _was_ a healer, and he had to know what he was talking about. And if he felt just a little bit better cuddling Peter to his chest and breathed just a little bit easier being able to see that Peter was _safe_ , well, no one would know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I used to go camping all the time as a kid and yes, you can see under a thick canopy when the moon is brightly shining without a light. Not a lot of people know this, but I've always been a night owl. Even camping. And if you think morning people are a pain when there's civilization around, you should try being rousted from your sleeping bag "because the sun is up and the day is wasting away without you." Ugh.


	14. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army arrives home, and Queen Mary Jane meets with a delegation of Reaper refugees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So: summary of last chapter for those who skipped it: Wade woke up from a nightmare of Peter getting tortured and spoke with the young healer who's been attending him. The healer suggested Wade's brain is trying to motivate him to recover faster in order to protect Peter.
> 
> About this chapter: you have no idea how many times I wrote and erased it. I finally have something I feel good about, although I'm a little iffy on the use of the Royal Plural (since it hasn't been used before this)--but the chapter didn't look quite right without it, so--here it is. I hope you enjoy.

The Queen of the Arachnid kingdom stared as the parade of rescuers, rescued, and allies made their way into the courtyard of her castle. She had heard of the damage that Wade had taken, of course, but it was one thing to hear about it and another to see the man, scarred almost beyond recognition, riding calmly behind Peter on his spider. Despite the professional smile on her face her mind reeled at the implications. No wonder they had needed to call upon Morphio’s goddess.

She stood and the crowd below her went silent as she slowly descended the steps towards the group. Those from Morphio dismounted and bowed before her as those rescued from Reaper prostrated themselves (except for wade) while her own army, still on the backs of their spiders, merely bowed their heads. Wade paused for a moment when Peter bowed his head and then shot her a saucy wink that almost made her laugh.

It was an old game between them, from back when she was first learning the Royal Expressions and how to maintain them in any situation. She was relieved that, no matter how he looked now, the man inside was almost the same. Surely, it would be a relief for Peter as well.

Halfway down the steps she stopped and raised her hands. The assembled crowd went quiet as they waited to hear what their Queen had to say. “My people,” she said looking around the crowds, “you knew that Our army went to Reaper to rescue an old friend. Wade Wilson, betrothed to Our own High Priest Parker, was captured by the invading Ajax army. And now, thanks to the combined efforts of Our army and Our allies from Morphio—they have succeeded!” There was a perfunctory cheer. After all, many of the alphas, male and female alike, in the crowd had been hoping to win Peter’s affection. “And now, my people,” she said deliberately switching from the Royal Plural, “it is time we feast in their honor!” A louder, much more enthusiastic cheer greeted the statement and she turned to climb the steps again.

When she reached the top, before leaving the area, she paused to speak to her aide. “See that a delegation from Reaper is brought to my public chambers,” she ordered softly. “And send the Morphio ambassador in after them.” The aide nodded and she continued on.

While the citizens thought the feast was spur of the moment, she’d actually planned on it since before the army left, when Peter told her that the Goddess was granting them a blessing to keep the army from going into heat or rut until after they were safely home. A public feast would put intense focus on no one person, leaving those with mates to pair off and go home when the first symptoms appeared. After speaking with her seneschal, the city was as prepared as possible for the baby boom that would be occurring in nine to ten months.

The public chambers were designed to look like what the general populace thought the private chambers for a queen looked like, with opulent furnishings, and a smaller version of the throne. She found she got more respect that way from her court, and very few people were allowed in her personal, private chambers. Those were her parents (now deceased), her fiance (who would be visiting soon to deal with his rut), and her best friend, Peter. She was sure that number would soon include both Wade and any children that she may conceive.

Shortly after she got settled in her chair (with Priest Octavius nearby) a group of people from the Reaper castle were shown in. Her aide was nothing if not efficient. She nodded at them. “We have some things to discuss,” she told them.

In an almost uniform movement, the entire group (all five people) got down to one knee. “Your Majesty,” the one in the center, alpha from the musky scent, said respectfully.

She nodded, not that they could see it. “I have heard of your plight,” she said. “And honestly, part of me simply wanted to offer you refuge in Our country. However,” she cautioned as she looked at the group, “I cannot.” There was a stir, but none of them spoke up. “In Arachne, the spiders are sacred. They are divine messengers from our goddess, a gift for all who live here. If you cannot get along with the spiders, then you are not welcome to live in Arachne.”

“How do we get along with the spiders?” asked one of the members—not, she noticed, the alpha in the lead.

Priest Octavius stepped forwards. “Majesty,” he said respectfully, “the temple recently received a tribute of spidlings.” At the frown on her face he quickly added, “None of them from the same place that gave us Spot as a tribute, and they’re all sizes from the mousers, to the hunters, to the riders.”

Queen Mary couldn't help but feel grateful that none of the new spidlings were from the breeder who sent them the little one that became Spot. Honestly, when Peter had first picked out that spidling she had been certain it would grow no bigger than a mouser. “Very well. You,” she said turning her attention to the refugees, “will work with the temple to care for the spidlings. Should you be unable to adjust to life here in Arachne,” she added. The group tensed and she paused for maximum effect. “I have spoken to the Morphio Ambassador. There will be room for you in Morphio.” There was a slight relaxing of the group and she clapped her hands. “Now! Go enjoy your feast.”

The group rose and bowed, almost as if they had choreograghed the movement, before they left. When they were gone, before Ambassador Felicia arrived, Priest Octavius spoke up. “Majesty,” he said with respect, “what about Wade?”

“What _about_ Wade?” she asked. She felt slightly hallow in her stomach and tried to think of the last time she’d eaten. She knew, if Harry was going into rut tonight, that she was going to need her energy.

“What if Wade isn’t able to coexist with the spiders?”

Queen Mary turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow, surprised that he had brought it up. “First of all,” she informed him, “Wade has visited Arachne more than enough to be familiar with spiders. Secondly, he is Peter’s problem. Ambassador Felicia,” she said greeting her new visitor. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

The blond alpha smiled. “A pleasure to meet you once again as well, Majesty,” she said politely as she took the seat that Queen Mary waved her to. The two of them exchanged more pleasantries, and then it was down to business.


	15. Spidlings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, the spider whisperer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick anatomy lesson on the spiders in this: first of all, they have both mandibles and mouths, kind of like ants do. Second of all, they're covered with a fine layer of fur (which is what keeps getting groomed). Third of all, they shed as they grow (like most things with exoskeletons do). And these spiders are highly social creatures who need human contact, because I said so.
> 
> Also--spidling is not a real word. I made it up.

As the rest of the army, allies, and refugees were led away to feast, Peter and Wade were cut from the group and led to the temple. Well, Peter was led to the temple. Wade just happened to be going in that direction.

_Call it what it is. You’re following him._

Definitely sure the voice was in his head, since no one else responded to it. Maybe he should have a talk with the healer about that before the delegation went back to Morphio…

“And they keep fighting with each other,” the priest, wearing some kind of white, wrap around robe, said with frustration as he led Peter to a barn.

Barns in Arachne, by necessity, were much larger than barns in other countries. Horses, to keep away from each other and get their privacy, needed half walls between them. After all, a horse couldn't climb a wall—but a spider could. Spiders had entire rooms as their stalls, and most often the doors were left open, allowing the spiders to move around at will. At least Peter kept the stall door to his spider open.

The priest led Peter to one of the stalls (the only stall with a closed door and most of them had spiders in them), and opened the door. There was a keening crash before he heard a higher pitched version of Spot’s anxiety hold-me-now cry—the one he’d uttered before trying to mount the wagon. And once, when he’d wrecked the tent.

“Here now,” Peter said in a firm, gentle voice as he entered the stall. Wade hung back and watched as he gently (fearlessly) pushed two small (by Arachnid standards—the two spiders were the size of hunting dogs) spiders apart. “What’s this about?” he asked gently as he slowly stroked the abdomens of the two spiders. The sight was simultaneously both the sweetest and the creepiest thing that Wade had ever seen.

Wade noticed the priest watching him. “I’m Wade,” he said holding out a hand.

“Priest Octavius,” said the priest. “It’s nice to meet you Wade, and good to see you healthy and well. What do you think of our spiders?”

“I think they’re creepy, giant cuddle whores,” Wade responded cheerfully.

“I see.” The priest blinked and looked at Peter, who was crooning softly to the two spiders that almost appeared to be melting in his hands. “More than I want to,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

The priest ignored him. “Peter, what do you recommend we do?”

“Both these guys need a human, as quickly as possible,” Peter said without moving from his position. “Wade, come help me with this.” Without a second thought Wade strode into the stall and dropped to the floor next to Peter, who scooped one of the spiders up and put it in his lap. The spider made an odd chittering sound which stopped as soon as Wade copied Peter’s movements.

The spider was softer than he’d thought, with a fine layer of thin hair on the hard shell that felt silky to the touch. The spider in his lap leaned into Wade’s hand as he gently stroked it. It turned and gently nibbled on his hand with its mandibles, and then turned so that Wade could get another part of it.

“Let me get a couple of the acolytes,” the priest said before turning and running.

“Poor things,” Peter sighed as he kept stroking the one he was holding.

“What’s wrong with them?” asked Wade. The one he was holding flung its foremost pair of legs into the air and he stopped petting it, thinking something was wrong, only to have it shove its abdomen against his hand.

“They’re touch starved,” Peter explained.

“Touch starved?”

“Spiders in Arachne need a certain amount of interaction with humans to remain healthy,” Peter said. His voice had settled into the familiar patterns of lecturing. “It helps balance something inside themselves.”

“Huh. Is that why even wild spiders will come up to humans? I thought they just liked the food.”

Peter laughed and Wade’s heart caught at the slightly breathless sound. “Who says it can’t be both?” he asked teasingly.

Wade was interrupted by the sound of running feet. The other priest had returned with two youngsters, both in the same kind of wrapping white robe the priest was wearing. The two youngsters stared at Wade. If they were from Reaper, he would have expected them to be staring like that at the spiders. As it was, it looked like they were staring at Wade.

At some point he was going to have to find a mirror.


	16. Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade manage to have a moment alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, really tired and not feeling very well. If you see errors, let me know so I can correct them. Also: I hope you enjoy. :)

MJ was waiting for the two of them in Peter’s room of the temple. From the looks of her outfit, she had switched places with her maid again. “You need to be careful about that,” Peter said as he and Wade entered the room. “Sooner or later someone you don’t want to realize what’s going on will figure it out.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “I  _am_ careful,” she said as she stood up and walked over to Wade. Then, before either of the men realized what she was doing, she pulled him into a hug. “It’s good to see you again,” she said before releasing him.

“MJ.”

“I _said_ I’m careful.” The redhead whirled, green eyes flashing in anger towards Peter. Peter, who had seen it all before and knew that, as Head Priest, he had just as much power as the reigning monarch, said nothing. “The Queen has retired to her chambers and everyone knows not the disturb her.”

“Your fiance is about to go into rut,” Peter said bluntly. “Are you sure you want to be _here_?” The queen blinked and he sighed. “That was the blessing the goddess granted the army when we left,” he explained slowly. “To stave off the heat and rut of the army until the army was home. The army is home,” he added.

“Oh, my!” Flushing crimson MJ’s hands shot up to her cheeks and she barreled out of the room, presumably towards her own.

Wade looked at Peter, concern clearly in his features and Peter gave him a crooked smile. “I’m fine Wade,” he said. “My blessing was—a little different.”

Peter took a seat on the bed and Wade sat next to him. “What’s the difference?” he asked gently.

Peter took the excuse to lean against his mate.  “The protection I received,” he said slowly, “won’t fade until we’re both ready for it.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled as Wade’s arm reached around him and hugged him close. He didn’t know all the details of what had happened to the alpha male, but it had taken a while for Wade to get comfortable initiating contact. In a deep, dark, secret part of his mind he admitted that he’d been slightly jealous of the spidling for the affection it was getting from Wade.

“Wish we could bottle that and sell it.”

“Wade!”

Peter looked up into Wade’s grin, white teeth flashing against the scarred lips. “Well, think about it,” he said with zero repentance in his tone. “How much do you think it would be worth to  _know_ when a heat or rut was going to happen?”

Peter shook his head as he burrowed it into Wade’s side—but his mind thought about it. Thought about how much easier life would be there was some way to  _adjust_ heats and ruts, so that they would only occur during specific times. Small businesses wouldn't have to worry about closing for a week or two at a time. Merchants would be able to hold off until they got back home to their mates. Poorer families could hold it off until their current child was at a better age for siblings.

Wade chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “There we go; _I’m_ thinking of all the ways we could make money off it and  _you’re_ thinking about how many people it would help.” The voice was fond, loving. Almost ready.

Almost. The cool feeling surrounding Peter’s glands didn’t fade.  Wade must not be ready yet. That was alright. The alpha was safe now. Safe and with Peter. They could afford to wait.

Wade’s hand gently traced the bottom of Peter’s jaw and Peter lifted his face as Wade bent down for a loving kiss—

—just as an ear piercing scream cut through the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, yeah. I *was* going to have a more detailed intimate moment--and I chickened out. I'll get there! Maybe...


	17. Unicorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot gets interested in a feral spider.

People boiled out of the temple like a pot left too long over a fire.  The source of the screaming was a young beta, one of the Reaper refugees. The cause was a spider, almost as large as Spot,  both mandible fangs sunk into one of the horses.

“I thought spiders didn’t like the taste of horse,” Wade muttered to Peter.

“They don’t. This is bad,” Peter added as the spider pulled its fangs out of the horse and _hissed_.

I t wasn’t a sound that Wade had ever heard Spot make before.  Actually, aside from the size, the spider didn’t look anything like Spot. Most spiders (or at least the ones that Wade had seen) came in the colors black, blue, gray, white, and green or some combination of those colors.  _This_ spider was eye-shockingly pink. It also seemed to have a jagged horn, almost as tall as Peter, coming out of its head.

“I didn’t think spiders came in that color,” Wade muttered.

“It’s feral.”

Wade blinked. He was familiar with  _animals_ that went feral, he used to hunt boar, but he’d never heard the term used with an Arachnid spider before.  Not those huge, monstrous, cuddle whores.

_This will be important later_ .

And there was that voice again. Odd. It sounded both like him and not like him.

The pink, horned spider gripped the dead horse with two of its legs and, still hissing, began to drag it back. Away from the humans.

The young beta whimpered and the spider’s attention was brought to her. It hissed again and then rushed towards the child—

And Spot was suddenly there between them, crooning. The pink spider recoiled as Spot waved his two front legs at it in a move suspiciously like the one the little spider Wade had pet earlier had. Spot crooned again, moved forwards—and placed himself between the human child and the pink spider. Human guards darted in close and dragged the child away, to safety. Spot began to sway from side to side.

Suddenly Peter made a strangled sound in his throat and Wade looked over at him. “Only Spot,” Peter muttered with an odd half laugh.

“Uh—mind filling those of us who aren’t familiar with these spiders in on what’s happening?” Wade asked. He noticed that, after getting the child safely behind the fence, the guards had started relaxing. Several of them appeared to be placing bets.

“Spot,” Peter said as he looked at Wade, “is courting the largest feral spider that the castle grounds have ever seen.”

“Oh.” Wade watched as Spot rose until his front four legs were off the ground and started doing odd little steps to each side.

“And he’s using the dance moves he learned for ceremonies to do it,” Peter added.

Wade watched the spider with renewed interest. He knew, objectively, that Peter had a special saddle that he stood in when Spot danced for ceremonies. Everyone who had seen Spot’s performances (well, not the Ajax soldiers, but they didn’t count) enthused about how Wade should see one and how impressed he’d be. “You ride him through all this?” Wade asked, impressed as the spider went up on two legs (on the same side) to rub the other legs together in a move that made on odd, eerie humming noise.

“Every move,” Peter affirmed.

Wade watched, eyes wide, as Spot suddenly leaped from the ground, flipping in midair, before coming to a neat rest  on all eight legs. “ _Every_ move?” Wade asked, astounded. His mind reeled. How? How could Peter possibly stay standing on the spider’s back through that entire routine?

He didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until Peter answered him. “It’s  one of the blessings from the goddess,” the younger man explained. 

“ _Peter has been granted three of the spider blessings from the goddess.”_

Wade remembered that conversation—right after his sweet little omega had put him in the dirt during a sparring match. “Still impressive,” Wade said. Spot came to stop and waited, all eight legs on the ground as mandibles rubbed against each other. The pink spider watched him warily for a moment and then grabbed the horse with its mandibles and dragged it away.

Peter sighed. “Poor Spot. He was rejected.”

W ade shook his head. Even he had to admit that the spider had gone all out trying to win the pink spider. The display had been impressive—and he was the wrong species to be impressed.

“And we’re going to have to put a guard on the remaining horses.”

“Wait, what?” Wade whirled to look at Peter.

Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Clearly,” he said wearily, “she likes horses. I doubt Spot’s going to give up, which means his next course of action is to feed her.”

Wade rubbed his chin, feeling bumps and scars on his face. “Maybe she doesn’t like horses and is just starving. Spot might have better luck if he takes her something she  _will_ like.”

“That’s a good idea,” Peter mused. “I’ll go suggest it.”

Wade wondered if the ability to talk to spiders was something that the goddess had blessed Peter with, or if it was something that was just unique to Peter. He watched as the omega walked fearlessly up to the huge spider, murmured something, and pet the monster. “A one horned spider,” Wade mused thoughtfully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I had to. :)


	18. Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Osborn pays a visit to High Priest Peter and his mate-to-be, Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have this hat. See, my store sold this hat around Christmas time, it's got these blue-green reversible sequins on it, and when we started selling it the thing was almost twenty five dollars. When it dropped to three and a half I bought it. Whenever I get stuck writing I put it on and *poof*, new idea.
> 
> Or: I just like sparkly things. Whichever works.

General Osborn, or Norman, as Peter and Wade called him, knocked politely before entering the High Priest’s quarters—which was more than the queen had. Peter opened the door and let him into the room—a higher quality version of the acolyte rooms with a larger bed, more floor space between the bed, clothes chest, and table, and lots of bookcases filled with both books and scrolls—and the general looked around. Mostly at Wade.

Wade gave a wave. “I’m still alive and still here,” he said happily.

“Good. If anything had happened to you we would have had a civil war.”

Peter frowned. “A civil war?” he asked. “But the country hasn’t been as peaceful as it is within its borders in generations.”

“Peter,” the general said firmly, “everyone loves you.”

“Of course. I am High Priest,” Peter said, clearly confused. He had the same love and respect that any representative of the Goddess had.

Wade and Norman exchanged a _look_ . Peter frowned. He didn’t _think_ he was overlooking anything…

“I heard,” Norman said as he settled into one of the chairs, “that Spot has found a spider to court.”

“Courting seems to have failed,” Wade said.

“I don’t expect that will stop him from trying until he either succeeds or the feral spider gets another mate. She must be nearing her fertility period with the way Spot was acting.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his graying ginger hair. “I don’t how a rider spider even became feral,” he muttered.

Peter returned the frown as he went to the bed and dropped down beside Wade. The alpha leaned closer and pulled Peter to his side, and Peter obligingly curled up there. “We know how rider spiders become feral,” he said grimly. “The hard part will be to find the breeder.”

“And once again, I’m lost in the forest,” Wade complained as he brought up a hand to gently run it through Peter’s hair. “How does a rider spider become feral?”

Peter sighed and leaned into the touch. “Most of the spiders in Arachne occur in the wild and tend to just sort of—cohabitate with humans,” Peter explained. “Rider spiders are bred. And one of the things that rider spiders need most of all, is touch.” He felt more than saw Wade nod and hoped he was remembering the encounter in the barn shortly after they arrived. “When a spider is touch starved too long—it goes feral.”

“It is an abomination and a crime against our Merciful Goddess,” said Norman coldly. “The spiders are Her gifts to the humans of Arachne and anyone who allows such a sacrilege to happen doesn’t deserve to live.”

“General,” Peter said reminding the alpha of his rank, “we’ve had this discussion.”

“You can’t rehabilitate people like that High Priest,” Norman snapped. He hadn’t forgotten.

Peter supposed it couldn't be helped. The two of them had very different views on capital punishment. Norman believed that killing people helped provide an example for the public, something for them to see as an outcome to be avoided no matter what. Peter believed that throwing a human in a cell for two or three years with minimal human contact would show a person exactly how much the poor spider had suffered. Norman believed that Peter’s views were cruel and unusual. Peter believed execution was excessive.

Wade surprised both of them with a low, throaty chuckle. “It is so _weird_ to see the two of you like this,” he said with honest amusement. “You both look like cats that got wet on a dry day, just _insulted_.” He chuckled again.

Peter felt himself relaxing and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as the general shook his head at the other alpha. “Before I forget,” he said, “congratulations on your entry into the priesthood.”

“What?” Peter wasn’t certain which of them spoke; maybe both of them had.

Norman merely grinned and gave them a half-salute. “When the scout reported to Her Majesty about the success of the mission, Ambassador Nathan tried to force her to send Wade to them as soon as he arrived here.” Peter felt a low, almost inaudible growl in Wade’s chest. “Yes, well, Her Majesty took it about as well as you are now and said that you are now an acolyte being sponsored by the High Priest of Arachne.”

“Probably the only thing that she could have said to stop a diplomatic incident,” mused Peter thoughtfully. He ran through the best options; when someone was officially accepted into the priesthood, the temple sent a recompense to the family who lost a productive member. Most frequently it was food, sometimes it was help—especially if the family really needed a helping pair of hands that they didn’t need to feed. What would be a good thing for the temple to send to the king of a (hopefully) allied nation? “What’s going to happen to those horses we took from the Ajax army?” Peter asked as his mind raced.

Harry had decreed that the horses that had belonged to the invaders were now, by rights, property of the Arachnid army. Since those horses had shortened the travel time needed by mounting most of the people from Reaper, no one had complained—but they still presented a problem, now that people were in Arachne. Arachnids had no need of horses—rider spiders more than filled the need.

“Well, half of them are being sent with the Morphio delegation as thanks for their help,” Norman said.

“Can the temple have the other half? To send to the Reaper King?”

“As recompense?” asked Norman, clearly floored.

“It’s traditional,” Peter said. “It validates Queen Mary Jane’s claims. And with blessings from four different goddesses, Wade certainly belongs in the temple.”

“What?” asked Wade shocked. Norman just stared at Peter for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“Very well,” Norman said. “I will leave the two of you to—to discuss things.” He got up and left.

Peter took one of Wade’s hands, interlacing their fingers together, and made sure the attached arm was wrapped around his shoulder so he could anchor Wade. “When we first rescued you,” he said slowly, “you were—badly injured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So knowing who the responsible breeder (hint: Flash) is for the poor feral rider spider, which debate should win? Should I have Queen Mary Jane side with Peter or Norman about this? I'll dither for a while so I can still update while I get responses. :)


	19. Courting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade spends some time with Spot and has a conversation with the ambassador from his home country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have a cuddle whore of a cat. He is awesome. He also desperately, desperately needed cuddles last night, which is why I didn't write more. And also why Peter's spider is named after him. :)

Wade leaned against a wooden fence and watched the monster rider spider known to the world as Spot. Spot sat, motionless, in the middle of a wide field. Only the merest hint of glistening in the grass told the world there was a spiderweb there.

In a fierce, sudden movement that was almost too fast to see, the spider yanked on the web in the grass field—catching twelve rabbits that he then proceeded to wrap in webbing. Wade remembered the wild spider that went to Harry on the road as they were eating rabbits the army had caught along the way and guessed that spiders liked the taste of rabbit. “Yo, Spot!” he called companionably to the spider. “Don’t forget flowers! Ladies love the flowers!” Spot turned and looked at Wade as his mandibles rubbed together and the little  mouth inside them flexed. He turned back to the rabbits, finished wrapping them, and then ambled over the fence towards the castle gardens giving Wade a quick rub as he went.

“I hear you’re going to be High Priest Parker’s mate.”

Wade turned to see the youngster, a kid about ten or twelve. The kid was wearing the loose, white wrapping that most of the priests here seemed to wear and had light brown hair that fell to just above its shoulders. Impossible to tell what gender the kid was; it looked like all the other kids in the temple. “I am,” he acknowledged.

The kid frowned, brows locking together in a scowl. “Where are you going to live?” he demanded.

“Here,” responded Wade, wondering what was wrong with the kid. “Apparently, I’ve been accepted into the temple. Peter’s sending my father horses.”

The kid visibly relaxed and smiled. “Good,” it said smugly. “That means High Priest Parker won’t leave.” At the look Wade gave it, the kid explained, “It’s forbidden to separate mates by mandate of the Goddess.”

“All five of them, last I checked,” agreed Wade.

The kid grinned. “Oh, I hope we get lessons together. I bet you’ll be  _fun_ to work with.”

Lessons. That brought up a good question; would Wade, as a technical acolyte, have to take lessons, even though he was an adult? Or did the kid expect he would be  _giving_ lessons? Exactly what did his future here hold?

The pheromones in the air, thick despite the cool breeze, warned Wade about the newcomer before the alpha spoke. “It’s good to see you well,” the alpha said.

Wade pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nate,” he said coldly. “Hate to see you here, love to see you leave.”

The other alpha laughed as though Wade was joking. They both knew he wasn’t, but in his father’s court Nate had more power than Wade did. Back in his father’s court, the  _drudges_ had more power than Wade did. They both knew it, and Nate frequently tried to take advantage of that by explaining, more than once, what a terrible person Wade was.

Wade suddenly felt grateful for the fact that he’d known Peter since they were children. He couldn't even imagine how messed up he’d be right now without the other man. “What do you want Nate?” demanded Wade.

“It’s not about what I want,” Nate said. They both knew it was a lie. “It’s about what your father wants. Your father wants to see you.”

Wade chuckled. “You must not have gotten the news,” he said turning to lean against the fence and face the other alpha. “High Priest Parker,” he said with vicious pleasure, “is sending my father two dozen warhorses as recompense for losing his son to the temple.” He watched as Nate’s eyes widened. “Now,” added Wade, “I don’t know who Queen Mary  Jane is going to pick as ambassador to deliver the horses, but I am not going.” Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to see Spot running past him, maids chasing him with brooms, and the bundle of rabbits in his mandibles. It looked like he had pulled up a rose bush and placed it on top of the bundle before scurrying off. “Huh. I wonder how smart those things really are,” he commented idly.

“Ambassador Nathan,” a cool voice greeted formally.

Wade turned to see Peter, in the same loose robes that most of the other priests were wearing (except that Peter’s were black instead of white), approaching. He grinned at the priest. “Hiyas, Petey.”

Peter, without missing a beat, rose up on tip toes to kiss Wade on the cheek. “Hi Wade,” he said calmly before turning back to the Reaper ambassador. “I was informed you were on temple grounds, ambassador.”

“I came for the peace of the goddess before my travels,” lied the other alpha smoothly.

“And yet,” said Peter with a small smile, “you have journeyed far from the temple. Let me show you the way,” he added placing a firm hand on the alpha’s arm. Wade smirked as Nate tried to break away from Peter and realized the omega was far too strong to escape from. One of the lovely little upsides to being Peter’s mate-to-be.

“Wade,” demanded one of the maids as she stalked up to him, “do you realize your mate’s rider spider ripped out Her Majesty’s newest rose bush? Those things are _hard_ to grow in this climate!”

Wade sighed. One of the downsides to being Peter’s mate-to-be. “He’s courting,” Wade said. “Everyone likes flowers!”

“Perhaps,” grit the maid through her teeth, “you should teach the spider what flowers are all right to pick!” She whirled and stomped off into the castle gardens.

Wade thought back to the spider, scurrying off as fast as he could go towards the woods, and grinned. “Good luck buddy,” he said to the spider even though Spot probably couldn't hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I thought the mental image of Spot tearing up a rose bush was just too cute for words. :)


	20. Ajax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis reports to his king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the post was late. Had to help out with something today, and I'm slightly tired. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

Francis knelt on the cold stone in front of his king’s throne. Wind from the blizzard whipped around the thick walls of the castle and drafts came down through the chimney sending smoke into the room. People rarely noticed anymore; the blizzard had been raging for almost two years.

Francis had once believed the entire northern part of the continent was consumed with the strange blizzard—right up until he’d ridden his men and horses into the sunny,  _warm_ air of Reaper. Until he’d seen the land so fat and green. He and his men hadn’t accomplished their original objective, but they  _had_ brought back as much food as they could carry—even if most of it was frozen by the time they got back home.

Other, weaker countries had thrones of bronze and thin coronets to denote their royalty.  Not in Ajax. In Ajax the throne is marble, carved with the images of the wolves that symbolized the Royal House—not the gems that symbolized their pathetic goddess.  Let the other, weaker countries lean on their goddesses like children who were afraid to stray too far from their mothers. Then there was the crown. In most other countries the crown was a thin gold coronet with minimal decoration. In Ajax the crown was a thick, heavy metal thing that had to be padded to be worn—or it would cut into the head of the king. 

“You failed.” The voice was cold, hard, and unforgiving. Much like the land after the blizzard moved in.

“Yes, Sire,” admitted Francis. 

“How?” demanded the king coldly. 

E mbarassing as it was, Francis gave the report about how the castle had been overrun with the spiders from Arachne. He also gave an honest estimate to how large those spiders were, something he knew was  rare. They’d all  _heard_ about the spiders from Arachne, of course, but no one had credited them with being anything other than tall tales, monsters to frighten children with in the dark.

And then the monsters had appeared in front of their newly claimed castle.

“I see. How was the prince? Properly subjugated?”

“No, Sire. He still held on to himself. I was preparing to move to the second tier when the castle was surrounded.”

The king gave an odd hum in the back of his throat as he viewed his court. Francis didn’t look up from the stone he kneeling on. By the time this interview was over, he’d know every ridge on these stones by heart. “It is rare,” the king said thoughtfully, “to find someone who can hold over the first tier, which is why we use it first. Pity he got away, he would have made a lovely vessel.”

“Sire!” called one of the guards. “We found another one.”

The king sighed. “Very well. Francis, you may rise. You will have a chance to redeem yourself.” Francis bowed his head further, then rose and carefully backed away. In this kingdom, it wasn’t wise to show your back to the king—he might decide to break it.

Two castle guards flung a pathetically battered lump onto the floor in front of the throne. The man was emaciated, bruised, and several of his bones were obviously broken. “He was preaching in the name of the goddess,” snarled the guard with distaste.

“Was he now.” It wasn’t a question. The king turned his brooding attention to the battered priest in front of him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The priest spat blood onto the floor, clearing his mouth to speak before glaring up at their reigning monarch. “The Great Goddess and her sisters protect us,” he said, words slurred by pain, but otherwise clear. “We must show them proper diligence!”

One of the king’s many knives hit the man in the throat, and he fell back to choke slowly to death. “We are greater than any mere goddess,” the king said with disdain. “We are War. We are Power. We are AJAX!”

Francis kept silent as the people around him chanted the country’s name over and over. One day, perhaps soon,  _he_ would be the one on the throne and these people would be chanting to  _him_ . His mind drifted towards the stubborn prince. It truly was a pity.

The man would have made a great vessel for their true god.


	21. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has too much time for introspection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right my lovely little audience--buckle up for a rough chapter. There's turbulence here, hints of what's on the horizon, and (if I wrote it right) feels. Let me know how I did.

Wade was beginning to think that there was a conspiracy to keep him away from mirrors. Or mirrored surfaces. Or anything where he might actually be able to see himself. 

He was (pretty) sure that Peter wasn’t in on it. Actually, Peter didn’t seem to have much time to do anything of the sort between administering to the temple duties, teaching acolytes, and comforting his lovelorn spider, he didn’t have a lot of time left over in the day. Peter was doing so much every day that Wade had taken to keeping an eye on the other man to make sure he wasn’t about to collapse—making sure he took breaks for things like  _food_ and _drink_ .  And occasionally moving the bed closer to the door so that at the end of the day Peter didn’t have to walk too far before he collapsed.

Everyone else, on the other hand—it was frustrating. The ones who actually spoke to him either waved away his desire to use a mirror or had a lame excuse as to why he couldn't use one. “Offense to the Goddesses?” Really?

Of course, that was just the people speaking to him. Others just stared, or ran away at the sight of him. He was almost  afraid to think about what he looked like now, after the torture. 

There were a few things he could tell, even without seeing them. For instance, he could feel the rough, scarred ridges of his scalp over his skull—and the lack of any kind of hair.  He could  _see_ the scarring on his chest, arms, and legs without any help at all. If his face looked anything like the rest of his body—he could understand why people would scream and run away.

He frowned as he leaned against a tree, in the shade, for a moment on his quest to find a reflective surface.  For some reason the torture that he, personally, experienced didn’t feel as real to him as the dreams he’d had of Peter getting tortured. In those dreams he could feel the bonds in his skin as he tried to escape to save the omega, smell the burning of the fires, taste the bitterness of smoke in the air—but the torture he had  _lived_ through seemed like a dream that he was already beginning to forget. It didn’t make sense—he had the evidence of the torture carved into his very skin  and Peter’s was still smooth and pristine, pure.

He had taken a moment to talk to the healer from Morphio about it, but the young man had been even more lost than Wade had been. He’d never heard of something where the pain someone actually went through felt unreal and the pain they were dreaming of was even more real. He had promised to ask for help from someone with more experience after he got back home.

That had been a couple weeks ago. He understood the problem—it took time to travel across not one, but  _two_ countries—but that didn’t make his predicament any less.  Sometimes it felt as though he was waking into a dream, as if the world he was living in wasn’t  _real_ , but a construct of his mind, something to get him through the torture.

_You’re no longer entirely connected to this world._

And there was the voice, again. Sometimes it just chimed in out of nowhere. What was he supposed to do about that?  Where did it even come from? What was it? He didn’t know.

He was startled when Peter suddenly appeared right beside him. “Wade?” asked the omega.

_His_ omega. Wade reached out and hugged Peter to him. “Just—just thinking,” Wade said as he held Peter. Slowly the tension began to bleed out of him.

“Want to talk about it?” asked Peter as he hugged back.

No. “Yes.” The two of them, without leaving each other’s embrace, sat down in the shade of the tree and Wade, for the first time, told Peter about his nightmares and how real they felt.  How unreal the world felt when he woke up, and how that feeling was getting worse, not better with time. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

Peter gently rubbed a hand over Wade’s chest. Wade, who now wore the same kind of clothes as the priests (which only made sense, since he  _was_ living in the temple). The man was silent for a moment, but Wade knew he was thinking. He waited while Peter thought, enjoying the feel of the young man in his arms.

“Have you tried praying?” asked Peter finally. 


	22. Praying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade takes Peter's advice and decides to pray for guidance--only to have something unexpected occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little more world building in this chapter. It gave me fidgets to write, so I hope all you lovely people enjoy it.

Wade shifted as he nervously looked around the nave of the temple. It was nothing like the temple back at his father’s castle (even in his own mind he couldn't call it home; that place had never been “home”). That temple had been built with small windows making the inside dark. Everything had been made of the hard, black wood that was found only in the country of Wilson, and it only made the temple darker. Then there were the motifs of death and balance found all over the temple walls.

This temple had been built with wide, open arches between the inside of the temple and the world outside. The place had been built with white marble and warm, brown wood. The motifs of spiders, in all sizes, were comforting, especially after having spent so much time with Spot. In Wade’s mind, this temple was more welcoming than the other had been.

“I’m not exactly sure what you want me to do here,” Wade admitted. He’d never been really big into visiting his local temple. He was more of a hands on, worship death in the most intimate kind of way.

“This isn’t about me,” Peter said gently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just thought it might help.”

“Might help,” echoed Wade hollowly. He looked down at the floor noting that the stone had been laid in a white against off-white pattern that showed little blocky spiders all over the floor.

“Wade.” The soft voice made him look up. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to try,” Peter said gently.

Wade thought about it; thought about the odd, disconnected feeling he’d been having, and (most importantly) thought about how busy Peter had been. And Peter, despite being so busy, was taking the time to talk to and help Wade with his—whatever was actually wrong with him. Peter also looked exhausted. “I’ve never—really prayed before,” Wade admitted. “I’m not sure I know what to do.”

Peter smiled. “It’s simple,” he said gently. “All you have to do is be ready for an answer.” Wade looked at him with disbelief. “It’s true. Just stand there, your thoughts in your mind, and let Her do the rest.”

If it was that easy, then there would be more priests in the world. Or less. He wasn’t really sure.

Wade took a deep breath, centered himself like he did before a fight, and let his mind empty, slowly. When nothing happened he opened his eyes—and jumped back at the sight of the five women, women who hadn’t been there a moment ago, looking at him in amusement. All five of them had a different hair color. The first had deep, black hair that almost looked like it was absorbing light. The second had brilliant yellow hair that almost looked like gold. The third’s hair was a deep, mystifying purple that moved in a wind that didn’t touch the other four. The fourth had hair the color of freshly spilled blood. The last one had pure white hair. All five of them were wearing the same clothes; the column style dresses that he’d seen women in MJ’s court wear. He looked around and saw that he was in a bright, starry space on top of a dark blue floor. A glance at the floor showed that there were small bright blue dots in it that moved as though they were part of the surface of a very large lake.

One of the women, the one with the golden hair, offered a throaty chuckle at his reaction. Another, the one with the black hair nudged her. “That’s enough!” hissed the woman.

Wade knew that voice. He felt weak as he swallowed. “I know you,” he said to the black haired woman. “You’re—you’re the goddess of Reaper.”

The goddess smiled gently at him. “Hello Wade. Have you reached a point you’re glad you haven’t died yet?” she asked.

“I—ah—uh—” Wade stammered intelligently.

The one with the blood red hair rolled her eyes. Wade wasn’t entirely certain how he knew she had rolled her eyes, since her eyes were a shifting cloudscape from one corner to the other like that of the other goddesses. “This,” she said curtly, “is _not_ the time. Wade, do you understand where you are? What you’ve done?”

Wade stared at her feeling wild and cornered. “I was just trying to pray!” he protested.

The one with the white hair sighed. “Of course you were,” she said soothingly. “My Priest suggested it. However, Wade, My Priest made a grave mistake, as he does not understand what is happening to you.”

“What _is_ happening?”

The goddess with the blood red hair sighed. “When that—that heretic tortured you,” she said, her voice spitting out the word like it was poison, “he was trying to turn you into an empty vessel.”

Wade blinked. “I don’t understand.”

The goddess with the purple hair waved a hand and the dark blue scenery beneath him brightened into a view of the world. “I think,” she said, “it’s time to tell a story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, playing by Whose Line rules where the points don't matter, ten points to whomever can correctly guess which goddess corresponds to which country. Any takers? :)


	23. Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Origin story of this AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter with a lot of rewrites and edits and I'm still not entirely happy with it, but I can't pinpoint why, so posting it anyway and moving on before I break my posting streak. I hope, despite the flaws, people enjoy it.

“Long ago,” the goddess with the purple hair continued, “before humans came to this world, it was barren, dead.”

“Wait,” interrupted Wade. “Humans— _came_ to this world? From somewhere else?”

“Did you honestly think they were native?” drawled goddess with the blood red hair.

“If I can continue,” said the purple haired goddess irritably. The one with the black hair raised her hand to her mouth. Wade was certain she was hiding a smile with the gesture. “As I was saying, back when the land was barren the five of us were introduced to it.”

“We each chose a territory,” the golden haired goddess explained, “and worked to make the land fertile.” One the dark expanse below them color began to bloom—mostly green, but yellow and red made its way into the map as well. A brief zoom showed animals eating the grass and flowers.

“There was no balance,” added the black haired goddess. “So I added predators.” The view shifted to a pack of wolves taking down a deer.

The white haired goddess smiled. “I added predators of my own—after a fashion.” Webs appeared on the world below them.

“The world was beautiful, and full of life!” trilled the golden haired goddess.

“And was boring,” added the red haired goddess. “Humans came as a relief.”

“It didn’t take long,” the black haired goddess told Wade, “for humans to realize that each part was under the care of a different goddess.” The view changed once again, showing humans building monuments to the goddesses. “They began to worship us, and we gained power from it. Definition.”

“And the humans brought darkness with them,” added the purple haired goddess sadly. Spots of darkness began to appear on the world below them. 

“The humans did not, at first, realize that the darkness was there,” the red haired goddess said. “At first, it was only we five who could see it. And it wasn’t much of anything—at the time.”

“In time, the darkness developed an identity,” the purple haired goddess continued. “Not content with what it had, it began to covet a position of power.”

“Our power,” the red haired goddess said wryly.

“Our people,” the white haired goddess said viciously, lightning flashing in the clouds of her eyes.

“And now, it has gained a foothold in our world,” continued the purple haired goddess. A portion, a portion that looked suspiciously like where he knew the country Ajax to be on the map, turned dark.

The black haired goddess spoke up. “The darkness is looking for a human host,” she said.  The purple haired goddess waved her hand again and the view of the world vanished to be replaced by the dark blue with the moving light blue lights. “See, the world the darkness is currently in cannot touch us, just as we cannot touch it. But both of us can reach the humans.”

The red haired goddess spoke up. “It’s why you were being tortured,” she said grimly. “ The Ajax were preparing your body to be a vessel.”

“It is also,” said the black haired goddess, “why you are able to come here. Your soul is not as bound to its body as it should be.”

“And if this had ever happened before, or there was any record of it happening at all, praying would be the _last_ thing your mate would have you do,” the red haired goddess finished firmly.

Wade blinked in confusion. Peter—Peter was a priest. Praying was kind of an ingrained response for him. “What?” he asked. “Why?”

He didn’t get an immediate answer. “Look at the world around you,” the red haired healer said. “What do you see?”

“Stars,” Wade answered looking at the sky. There were so many stars in it, stars that he had never seen (and he’d done a lot of night work for his father), that it was bright enough to read by. If he read for fun. He looked at the floor again. “Light blue lights moving in dark blue, like there’s water under there.”

“Every other human who has managed to come here can only see white space all around them,” the white haired goddess said. “That’s why they built my temple the way they did, to soften that transition for the priests who made it.” Wade looked at her with disbelief. “It is true,” she told him. “They call this place the white space.”

“Why can I see it?”

“Because, as I said, your soul is not as bound to your body as it should be.” He turned to face the black haired goddess who had somehow managed to sneak up behind him. She sighed. “The Ajax tortured you,” she explained, “to get this result. They wanted to break you so that the darkness could take you over. In a human body it would be that much closer to us, that much closer to taking our power.”

“It’s still trying to break you,” the red haired goddess added solemnly. “You gave it the key.”

_He’d be broken if anything happened to Peter._

Ice ran down Wade’s spine. If that thing took him over—the Peter was in trouble. Sure the man was strong, agile, and an excellent fighter—but he wouldn’t fight back against  _Wade_ , not against the suit the darkness would be wearing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “How?” he asked. “How do I—fix this?”

“This has never happened before,” the purple haired goddess said.

At the same time the red haired goddess answered, “You need to ground yourself. You’re growing distant, more so every day. Ground yourself in your reality. Force yourself to remember,  _at all times_ , where your home is.  _Who_ your home is. Or I can’t answer for what will happen.”

“Helping Spot with his courting is not a bad place to start,” the white haired goddess said. “And it occurs to me that, perhaps, were you to _actually_ become a priest we could help protect you.”

“He doesn’t have the calling!” protested the red haired goddess.

“He has the blessings,” argued the black haired goddess. “One from each of you and two from me. It only takes three blessings to be a priest.”

“No.” The purple haired goddess looked at Wade, eyes narrowed. Something in that cloudy speculation made him want to run, to run as far and as fast as his feet could take him. “He doesn’t yet have a blessing from _all_ of us. And this too, shall be shared.” She reached out with a single finger and touched Wade in the middle of his head.

Wade was jolted by what felt like soundless, lightless lightning and reeled. Peter, without missing a beat, reached out and grabbed Wade.  The jolt passed from Wade to Peter, leaving an odd, bitter taste on Wade’s tongue.

Peter blinked, his eyes unfocused for a moment. “What was that?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have a brand new coworker and learned, this morning while she was waiting to clock in (please help me with people who insist on arriving thirty minutes early to park their rears in a stool and gossip while there's real work to be done) and two interesting things happened. One, I learned (while listening to her ramble) that she's a Spideypool fan. Two, she asked a question which sparked a literary road in my mind, and I want to know if I should follow and see where it leads or let it go. She said, "I can totally picture Deadpool being asked to kill Peter and kidnapping him instead so as not to upset Spiderman."
> 
> Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? All of the above? I read like it's going out of style! :)


	24. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade learns more about rider spiders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is a short chapter, and I was going to finish and post it last night, but life intervened. Ah, life happens.

Okay, so he was to help Spot with his courting. Just how did someone go about helping a giant spider—a giant spider that could easily _eat_ him if it wanted—court a mate? He had no idea, so he asked Peter about it.

Peter frowned from the cloth he was weaving from Spot’s spider thread. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

Wade watched in fascination for a moment. Apparently, one of Peter’s duties as Head Priest, included weaving. Actually, all the priests and acolytes seemed to weave cloth on a regular basis. He wasn’t certain why.

“Well, how do rider spiders normally court each other?” asked Wade. Surely there had to be a way to improve the process, to help Spot. After all, a goddess wouldn't send him on a wild goose chase—would she?

Peter hummed thoughtfully as he gave the shuttle an expert whack between the threads before pulling a bar to tighten the weave. “Rider spiders, when they court, start off with dancing. Usually, the dancing impresses the desired mate. When it doesn’t, the rider spider brings their desired mate food. The spider in question continues to do that until either the courtship is accepted, or until the desired mate finds another mate.” Peter pulled a lever to make the rows of silk threads move, trapping the thread he had just tapped down with the wooden weight. “I prefer spiders in that regard,” Peter added. “There are no messy—situations that need to be dealt with because one person prefers another person’s mate and continue to pursue said person without any encouragement at all.”

That sounded alarmingly specific. However, Peter had a strict rule about confidentiality, so no matter how curious Wade was, he wasn’t willing to ask. “Okay,” said Wade. His mind drifted back to Harry sharing his rabbit—his _cooked_ rabbit—with the wild spider. “What kinds of food do they eat?”

“Just about anything humans can,” said Peter absently. A glance showed that Peter had accidentally woven his wooden weight into the cloth he was making. “Arachnid spiders are omnivores like humans are.”

Wade grinned to himself. “Okay!” he said. “I have plan. Where’s Spot now?”

“Probably still moping around the field,” Peter said absently as he carefully unwove his creation to free the weight. “Why?” he asked. He looked up. “Wade?”

Wade was already on his way out the door. He had a plan. First, he had to talk to Spot. Clearly the spider understood human speak. Then he had to talk to the head cook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, any thoughts about what his plans are before you move on to the next chapter? I'm all eyes. :)


	25. Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade begins to execute his plans to help Spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of posts today. I think I'm coming down with something.

The head cook stared at him like he had lost his mind. Not an uncommon look; most of the kitchen staff was looking at him the same way. “I apologize,” said the head cook slowly, “but surely I could not have heard you correctly? You wish that I what?”

“I want you to cook rabbits for Spot to use in his courting,” Wade explained again. “I’ll provide the rabbits,” he added.

“Why?” asked the head cook, abandoning all pretense of humility.

“I’m trying to help him succeed in his courting!” Wade said with a smile.

The kitchen staff stared at him. Harry walked in, grabbed a piece of bread, and got his hand slapped automatically by the head cook. “What is everyone talking about?” he asked before taking a bite of the crusty bread, sending crumbs flying to the floor. Unnoticed by almost everyone—everyone except Wade—a little spider (the size of a lady’s hand, so “little” was only in comparison to the rider spiders) came out from under one of the cooking tables and quickly ate the bread crumbs.

Maybe Wade should ask for some bread to go with the rabbit. Couldn’t hurt if the lady spider thought Spot could get her more delicious food that she couldn't get on her own. Maybe that would help?

“He wants to help High Priest Peter’s spider win his courtship,” the head cook said as she looked at Harry.

Harry toasted Wade with his bread. “Good luck with that,” he said amiably before taking another bite. More crumbs scattered to the floor prompting the return of the floor cleaning spider. Another, larger spider, came out of nowhere and pounced, sinking fangs into the back of the floor cleaning spider before dragging it away. Ouch.

“We all feel nothing but respect and admiration for High Priest Peter,” the head cook said, “but—his spider. Should it really breed?”

Wade felt shocked to realize that, in the land of monstrous spiders, Spot was an oddity. True, the spider was larger than the other rider spiders (large enough that he could easily carry both Peter and Wade and probably another two people if he had a big enough saddle for it), but this was Wade’s first experience with the fact that the other people from Arachne thought that Spot was a monster. To Wade, who grew up in a land where if a spider was the size of a small bronze coin it was huge, this was almost insane. Here, there were spiders everywhere that were big enough for humans to _literally_ ride. It seemed—almost petty to worry about a few extra feet of length, especially since Spot was such a cuddle buddy.

Harry simply smiled. “Do you _want_ to deal with a moping, unhappy rider spider the size of Spot?” he asked sweetly.

The head cook recoiled. Wade watched the interaction with fascination. “No!” the head cook said, paling visibly.

Huh. There was more to rider spider rejection than Peter had said. “Awesome!” said Wade. “You can help me with this!”

The head cook rolled her eyes and lifted them to the ceiling. Wade was familiar with this look—his own mother had worn it frequently around him back when she’d been alive. The woman took a deep breath. “How do you want those rabbits cooked?” she asked.

“Romantically!” The woman groaned as Harry laughed and the two of them left the kitchen.

“You could have just told her you’re completing an assignment from the goddess,” Harry said quietly.

Wade grimaced. He should have known that Peter would talk to Harry about it. “It wasn’t an assignment,” Wade said slowly, “so much as it was—a suggestion. I’m surprised you know about it,” Wade added. He _should_ have known that Peter would talk to Harry—but it hadn’t occurred to him. Peter valued the privacy of his people more than his own comfort.

“Wade, you go into a temple to pray and come out with a sudden desire to do everything in your power to help one of the largest, sweetest rider spiders succeed in courting his chosen mate? It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

And Wade frequently forgot that Harry was a commander. He had to know how to figure stuff out on the fly, in order to evolve battle plans under stress. Once upon a time, Wade had done the same thing—but never for _other_ people. Or at least, never for people other than his father.

And, somehow, Peter had arranged it so that Nate was gone and Arachne had a different ambassador from Reaper. An ambassador who wasn’t, as far as Wade could tell, in the know about the other things that Wade had been trained for, raised for. It felt, for the first time, like the tie between him and his father was cut. It was both liberating and terrifying. No matter how bad his father had gotten, no matter how bad things had been—he’d always known that, at the end of the day, his father would still be the rotten, selfish, mismanaging jerk that he’d always been.

“I figure out a lot of things,” Harry added lightly tapping the red, angry looking bonding mark on the side of his neck, over the gland. “I figured out that the healers have no idea what’s going on with you, that you’re far less uncomfortable around the new Reaper ambassador than you were the old one, and Peter hasn’t gone into heat yet.”

It took a moment for the last one to sink in, but when it did Wade gaped. “What?”

“Every other person in the army that went to rescue you went into heat and rut almost as soon as we got back.” He flushed and toyed with the angry flesh for a moment, no doubt remembering his own rut. “But Peter—hasn’t. And trust me, for someone as visible as the High Priest, _everyone_ will know when Peter goes into heat.”

“It’s—I’m still broken Harry.”

The commander shrugged. “And?” he asked flippantly. “One of my soldiers went into heat with a broken arm, two cracked ribs, and a sprained ankle. Before Morphio left they healed as much of the damage as they could.”

“I think—I think it might be different.”

“Maybe.” Suddenly Harry winced before clapping Wade on the shoulder. “I’ve got to rescue a courier from Mary Jane. She’s pissed about something.”

Everyone would know the moment Peter went into heat, because everyone was watching him. Wade wasn’t sure if he found this information to be terrifying—or incredibly arousing. Either way, he was going to have to ground himself more.

Next order of business: finding Spot and convincing him to wait until the food was cooked before taking it to the mate of his dreams. Oh, and to stop plucking whole flower bushes from the castle gardens. The maids were getting downright _upset_ about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts as to what else Wade is thinking Spot needs to do?


	26. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn why Queen Mary Jane was angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tired. Short chapter, long night. Hope for more when I get up.

Queen Mary Jane kept her expressionless mask firmly in place as she stared at the idiot before her. She  _wanted_ to have him gutted and hung on the castle walls as a warning all such idiotic people—but she knew better. She was Queen, and her word was law—as long as the civilians believed it to be so. She had been well taught by her tutors.

Still, the alpha had to be punished in some way. She had to make sure that no one,  _not one single person_ , dared to even  _think_ about what he was suggesting. What was the best way to do it? The only things coming to mind were images of death and castration—which were both unacceptable.

She was interrupted mid thought by a kiss to her cheek that managed to cool the rage boiling beneath the surface. “What did I miss?” asked Harry with a cheeky grin as he managed to push waves of  _calm, soothing_ into her through the bond.

Suddenly she was amused. Harry was her mate; he would be ruling with her as soon as the coronation could be held—maybe he should handle this—situation. “ Nobleman  Thompson ,” she said using the stiffest, most polite form of address held only for those who were truly being vexing, “has come up with an interesting proposition.”

Harry leaned against the throne as he looked at the young alpha with a grin. “And what’s that?” he asked.

“He wants to bond with Peter.”

Harry blinked. “High Priest Parker,” he said formerly, “ has someone to bond with.”

Thompson sneered. “Clearly not. It’s common knowledge that he hasn’t even gone into heat with the monster around.”

“Monster?”

“We all see it.” Thompson’s eyes narrowed into beady little slits as he spoke. “He’s more like a melted wax candle now than a real man—and the proof is in High Priest Parker’s inability to have a heat.”

Harry sighed. Then, incredibly, he began to laugh. “Do you honestly believe that, even in the throes of heat, High Priest Parker would choose anyone his heart wasn’t invested in? That he didn’t have a  _connection_ to?”

Priest Octavius stepped forwards. Queen Mary Jane wasn’t certain where he’d come from, or how he’d gotten into the audience chamber without notice, but she was grateful for his appearance. Especially when he cleared his throat to say, “Our Goddess has informed us, from the dawn of civilization, that bonding must be done through the heart, as those who bond will always be connected.” The priest bowed, his brown hair flopping around his head with the movement before he turned on the nobleman. “I have spoken to High Priest Parker. His lack of a heat is not due to his chosen mate’s inability to trigger it, but is due to the blessing of the goddess that his heat not come until he is healed.”

“How is he healing?” asked Queen Mary Jane, with curiosity.

The priest turned to face them and bowed once again. “Physically—he is healthier than he has ever been. However, the torture left quite a toll on his mind.”

“I understand.” The queen looked out among the almost ever present guards that shadowed her every movement. “And, where is the man now?” she asked.

“Well,” said Harry after a moment, “last I heard he was going to help Spot win that feral rider spider as a mate.”


	27. Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Spot have a plan to woo the feral spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but this chapter gives me warm, fuzzy feelings. I'm tired. Stayed up late to finish this. Hope everyone enjoys. :)

Wade surveyed the little clearing that Spot had made (who knew that rider spiders could pull out whole trees, roots and all). The holes from the missing trees had been filled in, there was a huge flat rock (because no amount of pleading could get him a table) in the center with cooked rabbit, cooked geese (Peter’s contribution), and six loaves of bread. Turned out  _all_ spiders liked bread. Most importantly of all, the clearing had three, well defined and easy to spot exits that were more than big enough for rider spiders. After all, no one liked to feel trapped.

He smiled at the sight of the different flower bushes (who knew the palace staff actually pulled some up  _on purpose_ and were willing to give them away) planted around the edges of the clearing. It looked sweet. It looked romantic. When Spot was done with it he should grab a couple of blankets and bring Peter here.

He looked at the anxious rider spider. “Looks good,” he approved and the spider threw up his two front legs in what looked suspiciously like how humans cheered. “Now, you remember the rest of the plan?” he asked. Spot turned to one side and rubbed two of his legs together, creating an eerie music. “That’s right. Nothing like a little music to set the mood; it’s why bards are rich. Go and get your mate to be!” Wade ordered and Spot shot off. “And I,” he added to himself as he ducked behind one of the bushes, “am going to hide from the feral rider spider.”

Peter and Octavius were still trying to figure out who bred the feral spider so that they could call punishment down on him. Peter was of the opinion that the guy was local, since the spider was here. Octavius argued that the spider would have shown up and made itself known a lot faster if it was local. Both of them agreed to allow Queen Mary Jane to do the final sentencing.

Rustling brought Wade’s attention back to the clearing.  He watched as Spot ran into the clearing and stood (or maybe sat, who knew with spiders) on the other side of the flat rock. The pink spider hesitated before following. Wade couldn't see her eyes from his position, but from her body language she was checking out the  exits of the clearing. He’d been in a couple taverns where he’d had to do the same thing.

S lowly, moving with supreme caution, the pink spider made her way into the clearing. Wade was almost certain the only reason she approached at all was the fact that all three exits to the clearing were clearly marked. She was not about to be trapped, but she was still wary.

As she approached the table Spot leaned to one side to free up his legs so he could rub them together to make the eerie music. The pink spider stopped. Wade could almost see her considering this. She took a couple steps back—and then came forward slowly. She seemed to take more confidence when Spot didn’t move anything except his legs to create that odd, haunting music

It wasn’t anything Wade liked. He was more of a boisterous song, make you thirsty enough to drink the piss they’re calling beer kind of guy. Then again, Wade wasn’t a spider. And it wasn’t as though he could get one of the court bards to teach the spider how to play a harp. He’d tried.

The pink spider reached the rock table and seemed to regard it for a moment. Then, slowly, she hooked a rabbit with her leg and brought it closer to her mandibles before putting some of it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, eyes on Spot. Aside from reaching out  and occasionally grabbing a bit of food, she didn’t move. Aside from rubbing his legs together to make the odd music, neither did Spot.

Wade wasn’t sure how they managed it. His legs were starting to burn from his crouch as he watched the tableau. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there before moving and giving away his position. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to scare away the spider Spot was trying to win.

Then the pink spider got to the bread. Like the rabbits, like the geese, she reached out and brought it to her mouth with her foot. Bit down. Then jumped back as crumbs fell and she noisily chewed. Spot stopped playing and rested on all eight legs once more. The pink spider scurried forward and picked up the rest of the loaf of bread before cramming the whole thing in her mouth while chewing frantically. Wade could hear the sounds of mastication from his hiding place.

He watched with fascination as the pink spider leaped back once again—and began to dance. She swayed from side to side as occasionally waved her two front legs in the air, rocking back and forth. Wade might have been biased, but he thought Spot’s dancing had been much better. Of course, Spot had been professionally trained.

Spot gave an odd, high pitched keen that Wade had never heard before, sped around the rock table, and gently ran his two front legs over the pink spider who stopped dancing and  _leaned_ into Spot. She tucked her body partially under his as he carefully wrapped his legs around her. Both spiders began to make that odd, satisfied chirr sound that he’d come to associate with a spider getting groomed.

By the time Wade realized what he was watching they were almost done. His face burned with a crimson blush as, when they were done, the two spiders gathered up the leftover bread and carefully, together, left the clearing. “Well that—was interesting,” Wade remarked as he stood up.

He lurched to the side and caught himself on a small tree as his legs cramped up from the position they’d been forced into for so long. It took a while  before he worked the cramps out enough to walk again and he staggered into the clearing. He looked around it and a small smile lit up his face.

Wade wondered what it would take to monopolize the most popular High Priest in Arachne for a while. Would people be upset? Would they go to war against him?

He didn’t care. He hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Peter since he’d gotten to Arachne, and it was time for that to be fixed. More than time. He went to the room he was sharing with Peter and borrowed a blanket before he went to the kitchen for some food.

After all, it worked for Spot.


	28. Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priest Octavius learns that High Priest Parker discovered the identity of the breeder responsible for the feral rider spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to write. I know, I know, I'm working up to a smut chapter. Baby steps. I'm thinking the next chapter will focus on Octavius and his troubles filling in for the High Priest before I go into the chapter with Peter going into heat. I'm actually going to try to write a good, steamy scene--but don't get your hopes up. This will, quite literally, be the first time I write something like this.

Priest Octavius glared at his loom, as if the threads on it had personally offended him.  The horn on the feral spider was distinctive; there wasn’t another rider spider that he had ever seen to have a horn like that. It  _had_ to  be distinctive enough to track the spider’s breeder down—and yet, every lead was coming up empty.  _No one_ remembered even  _hearing_ about someone trying to  breed a spider with a horn.

“If the loom has offended you that badly, you can disassemble it and try again.” Priest Octavius looked up into the amused eyes of his young High Priest, and he sighed as the man took a seat next to him, at another loom.

“I can’t find any leads on breeders working on horned spiders,” Priest Octavius grumbled.

“That’s because no one _has_ been working on horned spiders,” Peter said bluntly.

Octavius stared at him. “That’s—” he began. That horn, that jagged horn from the top of the spider’s head, was its most distinguishing feature. He’d never seen another spider like that before. How could it  _not_ have been on purpose?

“Calm down. Think it through.”

The words, uttered hundreds of times a day to the acolytes, sank in and he automatically took a deep breath as he straightened his posture. He released the breath and allowed the tension to leave his body as he forced his mind into a purely analytical state. “ The horn is absolutely unique.”

“Go on.”

“And so is the color. That vibrant shade of pink is rare for rider spiders.”

“Go on.”

“However, while no one has ever heard of rider spiders with horns, or any spiders with horns, there are several breeders experimenting with the color of their spiders, crossing for certain characteristics.”

“True.”

“Which means—instead of looking for a breeder breeding _horned_ spiders I should be looking for a breeder breeding _pink_ spiders,” continued Octavius.

“Yes.”

Octavius opened his eyes and regarded his High Priest. “You already knew that.”

“I did, yes.”

Priest Octavius eyed the young man sitting next to him. “You’ve already figured out who the breeder was.”

“Yes. Commander Osborn has already gone to search for more evidence and arrest him.”

Priest Octavius sighed. “I see,” he said wearily. Then he looked up with narrowed eyes. “Why aren’t you with him?”

High Priest Parker frowned slightly. “I’m not certain,” he admitted, clearly puzzled. “ When I told him who I suspected the breeder to be, he requested that I stay away.”

That was odd. Having the High Priest to the goddess could only add weight to Commander Osborn’s search. Why wouldn't he want to have it. “Who is it?” he asked with curiosity.

“Nobleman Thompson.”

Priest Octavius was speechless. That alpha, that  _noble_ that wanted to force a bond on High Priest Parker—was responsible for the feral rider spider? No  _wonder_ Commander Osborn had told  Peter not to go with them. He’d probably heard all about the incident in the court. In fact, Peter was probably the  _only person_ who didn’t know about it. Even Wade had made a comment about how it was probably a good thing that he didn’t know Nobleman Thompson from the rest of the color coded squad that surrounded the Queen in her court, followed by a humble request to be  introduced to the man. A request that, with as much dignity as possible, Octavius declined. 

“How do you know?” asked Octavius.

Peter sighed. “He’s been working with the brighter colors,” he explained, “in order to make, for lack of a better term, unnatural colors.  His little spiders have been popular with the ladies of the court.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Less of an excuse than the common might have,” High Priest Parker stated simply. “After all, he’s been breeding spiders for years. There is no way he didn’t understand the consequences of having a touch starved spider.”

The two of them were silent for a moment as they thought about it. Priest Octavius stared at his loom vacantly, the white, almost clear thread forming cloth.  Did Nobleman Thompson come up with his idea to bond to Peter before or after the feral rider spider appeared? It could be that he was just one more of the people obsessed with the High Priest—or it could have been an attempt to save his hide. Allowing a rider spider to be touch starved to the point of going feral was a crime that could be punishable by death—and he knew that was how Commander Osborn saw it. 

H is thoughts were interrupted as Wade strode into the weaving room. Octavius stared; the man had two blankets tied around his waist, had a woven food basket (the kind with a lid) over one arm, and was holding a huge water flask. “All right,” said Wade cheerfully as he picked Peter up with all the effort one of the acolytes used to carry clothes, “time to take a break Pete.”

Priest Octavius opened his mouth to argue—and then, for the first time since the army went on its rescue mission—he realized he could smell Peter’s distinctive scent. “Have fun,” he said instead. “I’ll take over while you’re gone.”

“You can’t, we’ve got to—put me down!”

“Don’t worry about the delegation,” Octavius told him as Wade, unconcerned and whistling to himself, continued on. “I’ll postpone the talks. And I can handle everything else.” He had to raise his voice to be heard as Wade didn’t stop in his abduction of the High Priest. He chuckled as he set his loom to the side and then went to tell Queen Mary Jane and her court that High Priest Parker was going into heat.


	29. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes into heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is NO PLOT in this chapter. All smut, to the best of my abilities (which suck, I know, but I said I'd write it). If you want to skip it, fine. Like I said, NO PLOT happens in this chapter. Well, all right, the two of them finally bond and become mates, but THAT'S IT. NOTHING more of note happens. And, this is my first time writing stuff like this, so please keep that in mind. And without further ado, the obligatory smut chapter! (Which will probably not happen again.)

The clearing sparkled in the late sunlight as Wade laid out the blankets beside the rocky table. The gray rock that dominated the clearing had bits of quartz in it that sparkled when the light hit it. Bushes of red flowers were planted along the edges of the clearing and there were three plainly marked exits to it. The floor of the clearing was carpeted with sweet smelling, soft grass. A glance up showed that the branches of the trees above them had been interwoven to create a light, airy canopy to the clearing. “This is beautiful,” Peter said. He turned to look at Wade.

Wade had put both blankets on the soft ground and started laying out the lunch—on the blankets, and not on the table. For the first time since his rescue, it felt as if all of Wade was right _here_ , with him. “Yup. We made it, Spot and me. He won his lady spider here,” added Wade with a toothy grin.

Peter grinned as he watched Wade’s muscles bunch and relax under the cloth as he moved. “Yeah?” he asked. “Tell me about it.”

“So, picture this. Spot leads the lady spider here, and she’s nervous as you know what,” said Wade as he arranged the food to make it more aesthetically pleasing. He looked up, humor in those bright blue eyes.

Peter wasn’t surprised. Spiders didn’t really lead other spiders anywhere, not unless they’d already been mated. The more surprising thing was that she _had_ followed Spot. Then again, Spot had probably been _very_ insistent _._

“Food is all laid out on the table. Cooked rabbit, duck and bread.”

Wait. “Bread?” asked Peter as he sat on the blanket next to Wade. The ground was just as soft as it looked, almost like a mattress.

Wade grinned, the smile cutting gently across his face. “All spiders love bread,” he confided to Peter as they shifted closer together.

Peter grinned back, entranced by the smile. “I didn’t know that,” he said as he reached up and gently began running his finger over Wade’s jaw, feeling the bumps of scar tissue. The sunlight almost felt too hot for his suddenly sensitive skin.

Wade leaned closer and gave him a small kiss on the lips. “Oh, yeah,” Wade murmured. “They go nuts for the stuff.” He gave another kiss.

A dim, still rational part of Peter’s brain noticed the heat, noticed the sensitivity, and cheered. The fact that he was feeling it meant that the goddess’s blessing had worn off and he was (finally) going into heat. Into heat, with the one person he’d known he was meant for since the two of them were children.

Suddenly, as though he couldn't wait any more, Wade pulled Peter in closer for a deeper, harder kiss as the two tongues explored mouths both foreign and familiar. The action stoked a rising fire in Peter, making him burn even hotter.

Wade pulled away causing Peter to give a low, needy whine. “Pete, Peter,” gasped Wade, not talking well as Peter began running hands over Wade’s body, feeling it through the clothes. “Peter.” The name made him stop and Wade looked down, bright blue eyes meeting melting brown. “You can still say no,” Wade whispered.

Peter reached up and pulled Wade to him. “I don’t want to,” he told the man, the alpha, his _mate_. Wade pulled him close and crushed his mouth as hands roamed over the lithe body beneath him. Peter’s own hands slipped under Wade’s shirt, pulling it and, in a desperate move, ripped it off.

Wade groaned into Peter’s mouth, and slipped a leg between Peter’s as Peter bucked into the motion, slick pooling down from him. Carefully, because Wade didn’t have Peter’s strength, Wade pulled off Peter’s shirt between kisses. He sat back and took a moment to just look at the omega, panting, wanting beneath him.

Peter reached up and pulled Wade back down. “Too far,” he grumbled before taking up the kissing again. He could feel Wade smile into the kiss and part of him was annoyed that the other man was so _together_ during this moment.

With a single, sudden move, Wade pulled off Peter’s trousers. Still kissing the omega he reached between his legs and gently traced down there. Peter moaned as Wade’s fingers caressed around his throbbing member and slipped down lower, mingling with the slick coming out. He carefully slipped a finger in and Peter jumped against the sudden cool, welcome intrusion in his hot, fevered body. “Patience,” cautioned Wade as Peter whined anxiously.

The small, tiny part of Peter’s brain that was still functioning swore than the next time Wade went into rut he was going to get his revenge for this. He was ready for more, ready for more _now_. He growled and bucked into Wade.

Wade pulled his fingers back, leaned forward, and kissed Peter as he slammed his member inside. Faster and faster until the two were so wrapped up in each other it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Wade nuzzled Peter’s neck and gently, but firmly, bit into the scent gland. Hormones raced through Peter’s body at the intrusion and he shuddered close—close—

But not quite there. He leaned up, gave one of Wade’s glands a lick before biting down releasing Wade’s own hormones—and they were there.

The two of them lay on the blankets, in the clearing, panting, in the aftermath as they waited for the knot holding them together to subside. Peter wallowed in the pleasant mixture of warmth and cool, feeling the same emotion from Wade. Suddenly Wade sighed. “Peter,” he said, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“What?” asked Peter feeling a chill of apprehension. What could possibly be wrong?

“I think we ruined our lunch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egads, this was hard to write.


	30. Sentencing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man responsible for the feral rider spider is tried and sentenced for his crimes in view of the public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay--quick edit here. I didn't notice (because I was too focused on the structure of the chapter), but this chapter needs a warning. WARNING: There is dark, and I mean DARK content in this chapter. (I'm sorry I didn't catch it sooner.) I will include a chapter summary at the bottom if you need to skip.
> 
> Ah, that darned, darned Royal Plural. Okay, a bit of a long chapter here. Sorry it took so long to write, but I had to do a bit of research on how trials in front of royalty are conducted. As it is, the trial more resembles the one from Mercedes Lackey's book *Firestorm* (seriously, good book) because Google kept thinking I wanted updates on the newest Royal Children for some reason. Hope everyone enjoys! (And feel free to tell me if you see something wrong with what I've written, or suggestions for future trials--if there are any.)

The gathered crowd was silent as they stared at the accused. To the shock of all the people, Nobleman Thompson was bound in manacles and chains, something usually only reserved for common criminals. The court herald strode before the gathered crowd as they muttered and nudged one another for a better view and tried to think of why the nobleman was bound as he was. The court herald projected his thin, reedy voice through the crowd. “Silence!” he ordered. “The sentencing is about to begin.”

Queen Mary Jane, in her throne, the braids of her hair clanking against each other as the beads woven into them clicked, addressed the people. “We knew,” she said firmly, “that if this was not made public rumors would tear this kingdom apart. You wonder why one of Our most esteemed noblemen has been imprisoned? Let the evidence speak for itself.”

Commander Osborn, as the person leading the search, stepped forward. “A feral rider spider was discovered near the castle as the starving creature took down a horse from the Reaper rescue.” He paused as horrified murmurs broke through the crowd. The rider spiders were humanity’s gift from the goddess, to allow one to go feral a sacrilege. “The soldiers and the priests worked tirelessly from the time it was discovered until we discovered its breeder, and all the investigations came up with the same name.”

“How was that determined?” asked Queen Mary Jane, her voice bleached of all emotion. Her very core was revolted at being in the same _space_ as the evil nobleman, but she could not show her dislike of him. Not here, not where it could be used as ammunition against her decision towards the man’s fate.

Nobleman Thompson was smirking. He probably thought he still had allies in the court allies who would bargain to save him. He was wrong.

“We looked at the strange color of the spider, Your Majesty,” Commander Osborn said simply. He stood in front of the crowd, facing his queen. His bronze armor was perfectly polished over his knit spider silk tunic. Most people chose to dye their spider’s silk into colors either before they worked it, or after. Commander Osborn felt that since the original color of the spider silk was good enough for the priests of Arachne, then it was more than good enough for him. “There is not a single other rider spider in the entire kingdom that is pink.”

Several young women, holding brightly colored small spiders, looked shocked as they stared at the nobleman. Queen Mary Jane could not help but notice, with savage satisfaction, that almost all of those women were noble. She hoped they were part of the “allies” that Nobleman Thompson was counting on. They weren’t horrified yet, but they soon would be.

“Mere color is not a reason to arrest someone,” she said, as though admonishing the commander. Both of them understood the game they played and he simply continued with his report.

“No Majesty. However, it is enough to search a premises—even a noble one.”

“Tell Us what you found.”

Commander Osborn, seasoned warrior who had personally led troops into battle against both other humans and unnamed monsters that attacked humans, had to swallow before he could continue. “We found—we found that he had cut the legs off of his breeding spiders, to force them to mate for the traits he wanted. There was—there was a pile. By the swine. A pile of—of dead spidlings.”

A collective gasp went through the crowd at the horror their imaginations were painting for them from the small description. Queen Mary Jane, who had received the full account from those who were present, knew that their imaginations would fall far short of the reality the unsuspecting guards had run into. Queen Mary Jane turned her attention to the prisoner as the crowd, enraged, suddenly surged forwards. The only thing protecting the miserable little man was her guards—and she could see that they were tempted to allow the crowd to dispense its justice on him.

She grabbed her scepter, kept near the throne for just this purpose, and banged it on the ground. The metal rang out clear against the stone, cutting through the crowd’s anger and focusing their attention on her once again. Queen Mary Jane stood and eyed the nobleman, suitably cowed by the anger of the crowd, with narrowed eyes, powdered malachite on them glinting in the sun. “The spiders,” she said firmly, coldly, “are blessings from Our Merciful Goddess. They are Our allies, Our hopes, and Our reminders to cherish Our offspring and Our mates as they cherish each other. To behave in such a despicable way towards them is more than mere sacrilege—it is blasphemy.” There was a gasp. There was one known punishment for blasphemy. Little did they know, their queen was about to add another.

“Ha!” crowed the nobleman, looking sure of himself once again. “The Goddess has turned Her face from us! What more proof do we need, than the failure of Her High Priest to go into heat?”

“It would seem my arrival is most fortuitous.” Queen Mary Jane shifted her eyes to the corners to see the new arrival.

“Would you care to explain, Priest Octavius?” she asked.

“Gladly, Your Majesty,” Priest Octavius said as he stepped into the focus of the crowd. “I came to give the glad tidings; High Priest Parker has gone into heat, and has retired with the recently rescued prince.”

“So he’ll be mated to a half melted candle!” sneered the bound nobleman.

High Priest Octavius drew himself to full height. Queen Mary Jane wasn’t entirely certain, but she thought he sucked in his prodigious gut as well to face the captured man. “Wade Wilson,” said the priest coldly, “is an acolyte of all five goddesses, the first of his kind. Perhaps the last of his kind. More importantly,” seethed the priest, “he is the alpha the High Priest _chose_ .” He glared at the nobleman with narrowed eyes, no doubt remembering the man’s plan to have Peter _forced_ into a bond with him. “Choosing,” added the priest firmly, “is the right of alphas and omegas and is protected by our very goddesses.”

“Enough,” said the queen in a quiet voice that nonetheless carried over the crowd. Her gaze turned to the nobleman. “By law,” she said, “the crimes you have committed are punishable by death. Both Commander and General Osborn have been arguing for the death of the monster who allowed a rider spider to go feral since she was discovered. However, High Priest Parker has argued leniency. He has stated that even a man seeped in evil may have a chance to change. So he has proposed a plan to allow you to redeem yourself in the eyes of the goddesses.”

The plan was pure genius. Everyone would be certain that she was being lenient, that she was going easy on him. Only a very few still in residence would know the true extent of the Hell the man was about to be dragged through. “First, he recommends that your possessions and titles be taken. Nobleman Thompson—you are a nobleman no longer. No longer will you be able to claim the honest, proud name of Nobleman Eugene Thompson. From this moment foreword, you shall be known as Flash, like the poison of old. Still, we cannot simply take everything from you. Every living human is guaranteed a profession.” She wondered if her eyes glittered. She found she didn’t care if she was breaking the Royal Face she’d been practicing since she was a small child.

The queen raised her head to face the crowd. “None of you have yet been informed,” she told her people kindly, “but we will soon have to go to war. The golden kingdom has renounced the goddesses,” she told them to horrified gasps from both the crowd and the former nobleman, “and are determined to conquer all the kingdoms that still worship those who protect us.” She rested her gaze on the stunned former nobleman once more. “Therefore, _Flash_ , We do so decree that from this moment on until the moment the last breath escapes from your flesh, you shall be a gravedigger. In the event there are no graves for you to dig,” which would be when he first arrived at the battlefield, “you will be in charge of the latrine trenches. Two guards will be accompanying you at all times to ensure you are paying proper physical penance for your crimes, so that you may have a chance to repent your sins.” She raised a hand. “Until such time as your services are required, you shall enjoy the comfort of the dungeon.” She dropped her hand and the guards led the man away. She bowed her head, to keep the smirk on her face from showing. “Let us all pray that he sees the error of his ways,” she suggested as Priest Octavius, never one to drop a verbal cue, stepped forward and led the assembled in prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobleman Eugene's crimes against spiders are brought to light, and he is sentenced to be a grave and latrine digger for the army for the rest of his natural life span.


	31. Scuffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade mediate a fight between two of the children of the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully there's enough fluff in this chapter to balance out the pain of the last one. (Sorry again.) Hope you enjoy! :)

“Now, what is this about?” demanded Peter as he looked at the scruffy children. The two miscreants were dirty, their clothing was stretched (not torn, spider silk was notoriously strong), and one of them was missing a chunk of hair.

One of the children threw back his arm and pointed at the other. “It’s  _his_ fault!” the little girl stated firmly.

Peter vaguely recognized her as Ellie, a child who was sent to be an acolyte because of her unusually high aptitude for mouser spiders. The girl was a handful—two parts good, one part rowdy, and one part hot temper. She was usually the first to fight and the first to apologize. “What is his fault?” Peter asked patiently.

Ellie’s pale face suffused with red anger, a stark contrast to her blond hair. “He said I was thrown away!”

“What?” Peter turned to the other child, a boy with light brown hair that he recognized as Brian. Brian was shy, almost never spoke up in class, but was already almost a master weaver. “Brian?” he asked.

His face was just as red—and slightly bruised. Ellie didn’t hold back when she fought. “It’s true!” he said. “She was thrown away just like the rest of us!”

Wade almost materialized behind the boy. “Who said you were thrown away?” he demanded.

From the first day, none of the children had been frightened of Wade’s new appearance.  Even though they were just children, they knew that Wade was someone who could be trusted and relied on. They knew that, just as little Peter had known that, all those years ago  when the two of them had first met.

“They all say it!” shouted the upset boy. Peter was shocked to see tears running down his cheeks. “All those new kids!”

“They are wrong!” Wade picked up the boy—who looked small in his massive frame, and gently tossed him in the air catching him expertly. “Do you want to know why you’re here? Why _all_ of you are here?”

Brian, Ellie, and the other children nodded as they watched Wade with a mixture of trust and  nervousness. Peter watched him handle the children with pride. He knew, from their late night talks, all about his time as the head of his father’s special equalization force. He also knew that spending time with small children wasn’t something he’d really done before he’d arrived in Arachne. And yet, Wade took to the role of pack father beautifully.

“You’re here,” Wade continued, seemingly oblivious to everything, “because you were chosen. All of you were. You might think,” Wade continued with a wry twist of his scarred lips, “that I’m an idiot. And I am sometimes. But I’m an idiot who notices things. Brian, your weaving is better than most of the priests. Ellie, I’ve seen you calm and soothe frightened spiders that have attacked _Peter_.” Slowly, carefully, Wade goes through the group listing something that each and every single one of them was the best at, showing them that they were special, perfect just the way they were.

Peter simply smiled and let Wade handle it. In no time at all, like a pro, he had the children playing together again as hard as if they’d never fought and the two superfluous adults withdrew—to a discreet distance. No way was either of them letting the damage wreaking, screaming children out of adult supervision if they could help it. The temple had already gotten a stern lecture from the guard in charge of the city walls.

Wade suddenly sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I know why the kids thought they were abandoned,” he said quietly. Peter looked at him curiously; he could feel a deep sense of uneasiness through the bond they now shared and he wasn’t certain what could possibly have created that. “In Reaper—there are parents who will abandon their children. At the temple.” Wade stared out at the distance. “They’re raised as children of the goddess, and given food, shelter, and education—but everyone knows they were thrown away. It’s different here.”

Peter reached out and wrapped his arms around his mate. Wade hesitated for a moment, and then leaned into the embrace, resting a cheek against the top of Peter’s head as they watched the children play. “What about our children?” asked Peter.

Wade grinned against the silky hair caressing his cheek. “Aren’t you ambitious?” he murmured to his mate. “We already have fourteen. Want another one this soon?” Peter chuckled and rested his head in the crook of Wade’s neck. The two of them stood, watching the children play. Ellie fell and skinned her knee, but Brian helped her up before they were off again in the odd games that the temple children played. The feelings of contentment echoed through the bond as they passed from one another.

“This may be a bad time to bring this up,” Peter murmured to his mate, “but weren’t you supposed to be in class learning how to weave?”

“I may have had an artistic argument with my teacher,” Wade said.

“WADE WILSON!” Peter turned to see the blond Gwen, storming down the temple halls with darkly flashing eyes and her lips twisted into scowl. “HOW DARE YOU?!”

Wade simply sighed. “Aaaand my break is up. See you later Pete.” Wade kissed the top of Peter’s head, stepped away, and then bolted towards the forest.

Gwen, her petite features suffused with rage making her look like an older version of Ellie, stopped and glared at Peter, hands on her hips over her temple gown. “Do you know what your mate did?” she snarled.

Peter should have felt worried. Gwen was, by her own rights, a force to be reckoned with. And yet—and yet he didn’t find it in him to care. He simply smiled, amused her at her rage. “What did he do?” he asked and prepared himself for a long lecture. After all, whatever Wade had done certainly wouldn't be boring.


	32. Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade looks for the ambassador from Mysterio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I kind of hurt my arm, and typing is painful. My uploads may slow to one chapter a day or even one every other day, but no more than that, and only until my arm is better.

“I don’t know what you want!” screamed the voice of the head cook.

Spot, in front of the opening to the kitchen, waved his mandibles and chirred in what even Wade could tell was frustration.  The head cook, eyes wide and arms flailing, was also clearly frustrated. The sounds from the kitchen told Wade that the people inside were either amused or frightened and the lack of burning said they were amused.

Well, this looked interesting. Wade  sauntered over and leaned against the building as Spot, not for the first time if the marks on the door were anything to go by, rubbed one of his forelegs against the side of the kitchen door. What could the rider spider want? Judging from the smell they were roasting meat, making sauce, baking bread—aha!

“He wants bread,” Wade said as he shoved away from the wall.

The head cook stared at him. “What?” asked the woman.

“Bread.” Wade ducked into the kitchen, filched a basket and filled it with a few loaves, before handing the basket to Spot. The spider leaned against Wade for a moment before spinning in place and racing off.

“Bread,” echoed the head cook as she watched the spider get out of sight.

“It’s how he got his mate,” Wade explained. “By feeding her bread.”

“So—he came back for more bread?”

Wade shrugged. “She probably ate it all.” He turned and wandered off. Cuddling with Peter in front of the children had been fun, but there was another reason he’d acted up to get the weaving class ended early. 

For the first time in living memory, and only the third in recorded history, an ambassador from Mysterio was coming. Mysterio was a country that usually stayed within its borders; while there were peace agreements with the other four kingdoms, the Mysterio had never sent an ambassador—before now. Now, when Ajax renounced their goddess, now when Wade, saved from Ajax torture and mysterious recipient of five divine blessings from different goddesses—now they came.

He had a bad feeling about it. Unlike most of the people he knew, Wade had actually been to Mysterio.  The place was strange—they had impossibly tall buildings made of an odd white, hard substance that seemed to be slightly porous. The majority of their metal, instead of being shiny bronze, looked almost like silver—but was harder than even best forged bronze sword. They also had horseless carriages that spat steam and smoke into the air moving people, the cities were filled with soot and choking gray ash, and the people seemed singularly intent.

While Mysterio didn’t exactly have closed borders, they tended to make their dislike of  outsiders plain. Wade had been there exactly once—and he wouldn't have stayed as long as he had if he hadn’t been on a mission for his father. He was just a little worried that they’d come to look for him.  He hadn’t  _meant_ to kill those other people—but it had kind of happened.  And some of them had been Mysterio citizens.

Now, Wade didn’t hold grudges. He thought nothing of the alpha who’d shot him with her arrows—twice. His knee didn’t even twinge any more, and he  _had_ been a murderer (according to guard reports), so there was no point in getting angry or anything.  He knew that living and dying were about the same and held equal power in the eyes of the Reaper goddess.

He also knew that other people weren’t the same. If this envoy from Mysterio  _was_ there to ferret Wade out and bring some kind of “justice” to the former prince, then Wade needed to know about it. More importantly—he needed to discover it somewhere Peter wouldn't be in danger. Those people from Mysterio were sly, crafty.

“So,” a voice said interrupting his thoughts. He turned to see Myles, one of the Reaper refugee children. The boy grinned impudently up at Wade. “You put oil on Acolyte Gwen’s shuttle?”

Wade grinned back. “Only a liiitle bit,” he acknowledged. The boy snickered. “Aw, come on, I thought it would help it move faster.”

“Through spider silk?” asked the kid before doubling up. 

Well, it was an improbable lie. Few raw materials were as slick as spider silk. “All right,” he confessed, “I wanted to spy on that new ambassador.”

Suddenly Myles isn’t laughing at all and is studying Wade with an odd expression. Then the kid, with a lightning fast mood change, sings, “I can show—you a—secret!”

“Lead the way.”

“But!” The boy glared up at Wade with chocolate eyes. “You have to promise not to tell any of the grown ups!”

“Have you _seen_ how mad Gwen is at me?”


	33. Surprise Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambassador Stephen is alone in his room, gathering his thoughts, when a man interrupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! References to torture in this chapter, slightly more descriptive than before, but no real detail. Trust me; no real detail. Summary at the bottom for those who want to skip.

Stephen looked at the inferior mirror and sighed at his reflection. For the most part, the people of Mysterio kept to themselves and expected the other kingdoms to do the same. The powers in charge of the kingdom had seen the trouble brewing in Ajax, and had elected to do the same this time—until the goddess stepped in Herself and gave the order—Stand together, or be beaten apart. So here he was, among people who still used  _chamber pots_ for heaven’s sake, waiting for an audience with the Queen of Arachne.

Then there was the other problem. He tapped at his goatee nervously as he stared at the mirror. Nearly half a decade ago now, an assassin had slipped into Mysterio from the country of Reaper and gotten to a young alpha claiming political asylum from his home kingdom. Even with the best of magic available, even with the best of Tony bloody Stark’s “tech,” the man had not been detected until the killing blow severed the alpha’s head. Identifying the assassin as the only heir to the Reaper throne had not been enough—not when said man left the city, reached the surrounding countryside—and vanished. No magic or tech had been able to find him. No one had seen him, remembered him passing, or sold food to him. It was as if, once he escaped the city, he ceased to exist.

And now that same man carried unprecedented power in the form of blessings from all five goddesses of this world. No telling what the blessings were;  _he_ might not even know. The goddesses almost never told those they blessed what they were getting. Stephen, though he would never admit, strongly suspected that people were given blessings based on what they goddesses needed in the humans, and that the reason the humans were never told was because they would then have the ability to say no.

Stephen rubbed his hand over his face as he looked at himself in the mirror. His best friend, the animated (possibly alive; he wasn’t sure) cloak wrapped him in a hug. “I don’t think that’s going to help,” Stephen said to the living cloth.

“Probably not,” agreed a voice behind him.

Stephen whirled to face the intruder—and stared.  The man in front of him had clearly been in intense, soul-crushing torture. Stephen, with his clinical eyes, could see the branding iron marks, places his skin had been carved away, and even where someone had dug in at the sensitive glands on either side of the neck. Whoever had done it had known what they were doing—it wasn’t enough damage to kill or, if he knew anything about humans—to knock him out long enough to give him peace. Even more surprising was the red, raised mark of a freshly made bond on one of the glands—a mark that was fresher than the scars.

“Great Merciful Goddess,” swore Stephen as he felt his legs go weak. If the cloak hadn’t supported him he would have fallen to the floor. He stared as his brain made the only connection it possibly could.

The people who had tortured this man, this alpha, had been trying to make a vessel.  They had been trying to break his body, his mind, and his soul. He wasn’t certain what shocked him more; that humans would  _do_ such a thing to one another—or that the man hadn’t broken.  _Couldn’t_ have broken—he wouldn't have been able to mate if he had.

The man simply nodded. “I get that a lot,” he said calmly, leaning against the wall nearest the open window.

Stephen suddenly realized why the man was so familiar. “You’re him,” he said in awe. “The assassin.”

There was a slight, recognizable twitch. “Yeah,” admitted the strange man. No,  _Wade Wilson_ . “That’s me.”

“We didn’t even know you were there until you killed!”

“Well, you don’t get close to a target by screaming to the people around you, ‘I’m gonna kill this guy’.”

“You stabbed me through the hand!”

“You stabbed me in the arm. With a _stick._ ” He sounded bizarrely impressed.

Stephen stared at the man for a moment. There was no anger, no accusation in his voice. He did not appear to be carrying a weapon (although he would be foolish to assume the man was unarmed). Most importantly of all, his living cloak was not reacting aggressively to the man. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly to center himself. “You have a point,” he admitted. “Are you here to kill me?” he asked with morbid curiosity.

Wade snorted. “If I was here to kill you,” he said calmly, “you never would have known I was here.”

Stephen watched the man with curiosity. “Well,” he asked finally, “why  _are_ you here?”

Bright blue eyes met his dark brown ones. “Would you believe,” Wade asked with deadly seriousness, “that I came to see if you’re here to kill  _me_ ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ambassador Stephen is in his room thinking about the differences between Arachne and Mysterio when he sees a figure. After some words are exchanged, he recognizes the intruder as the same man who killed a refugee in Mysterio some years ago. When he asks if the figure is there to kill him, the figure denies it and then asks, "Are you here to kill me?"


	34. Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slice of life for High Priest Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to post one before bed. Good night all you happy people. Enjoy.

Peter smiled at the struggling mother and child, both refugees from Reaper. They were trying to collect spider silk on a spindle for weaving purposes—and they were both failing despite the helpfulness of the little spiders. The  thread snaps, for the fourth time, and the child cries out in frustration as it hurled the spindle across the room.

The spider itself, one of the little knee high ones, turn ed and gently rub bed its forelegs over the child to comfort it. “ It’s all right,” Peter said gently. “It takes time and practice.”

“It _is_ difficult,” the child’s mother said with a glare at her own spindle. The spider, the same kind as the one helping the boy, turned and tried to comfort her with its forelegs like its brother was doing for the child. The woman reached out and absently stroked the the little spider’s back.

Peter smiled. Both mother and child, determined to fit in here in their new home, had come remarkably far from the people who had screamed and fainted upon seeing Spot for the first time. Of course, Peter knew (although the boy’s mother did  _not_ ) that one of the castle knights had taken to taking some of the children for rides on the back of his spider—rides that included climbing walls.

He wasn’t entirely certain  _why_ the two were so determined to fit in. Not all (or even most) of the refugees were. A significant majority seemed to be readying themselves to travel out of Arachne and through Mysterio to get to Morphio. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Myles as the acolyte ran to the open door of the spinning room. “High—Priest—Parker!” Myles gasped as he rested his hands on his knees.

Peter gave him a few moments to get his breath before gently questioning. “Yes?” he asked.

The boy took a long shuddering gasp before drawing himself up to full height. He was only a head shorter than Peter. “Priest Octavius would like your assistance with a dispute he is attempting to handle,” Myles told him.

“Thank you. I think,” Peter said as he turned to smile at the female omega and her child, “that it is time to take a break. Trying to force yourself to do a task you are unused to for long periods of time will only cause more problems than if you rest. Myles,” he said turning his attention back to the acolyte, “please be kind enough to show these two how to care for the spiders.” The spiders, knowing what was about to happen, began to dance with joyful anticipation.

“Sure thing.” The boy stepped in and graced the two with his biggest, most open smile. “Pleased to meet you. Are you going to be living in the temple with us?”

Peter heard the omega woman give a murmured answer, but didn’t eavesdrop. He didn’t need to know if they were planning to live in the temple until they were ready to move in. Personally, he didn’t feel the two of them were ready to live in the temple, but there were several very good places that would be more than willing to take the two of them in. Peter had, as part of his duties as High Priest, been keeping track of them. 

He turned his mind away from the refugees  as he walked in the wide spaces between the white columned pillars and focused on the priest calling him. Priest Octavius was one of the best priests in the temple; he didn’t know what the beta might need help with.  If Priest Octavius hadn’t been one of the most reliable priests in the temple, High Priest Peter never would have allowed him to be in charge when he took off with the army to rescue Wade.

D isputes were usually settled in one of the many royal courts in the city; few of them came to the temple. Most frequently the ones that did come to the temple were  cases that involved inheritance disputes, property disputes, things of that nature. After all, one of the functions of the temple was to keep perfect records.

He could hear angry yelling as he made his way towards one of the dispute rooms. Acting on a hunch, he followed the sound until he reached the room that Priest Octavius, an alpha that Peter recognized as Nobleman Jamison, and another unknown beta were in. The two betas were cowering, Priest Octavius slightly and the unknown beta greatly, from the pheromones that the angry alpha was emitting.

Most omegas would be upset and have to leave the room when confronted with an angry alpha—but Peter had never been like most omegas. He supposed that one of his blessings from the goddess was a resistance to that sort of thing. He calmly walked into the room as though there was nothing amiss. “I received your message from Myles,” Peter said calmly as he came in. “What seems to be the problem?”

Nobleman Jamison growled, the sound low and menacing. Peter could clearly tell that the unknown beta  wanted to run, and Octavius flinched, but he didn’t even twitch. Peter had been dealing with angry alphas since long before he became High Priest.

Priest Octavius handed him a small stack of papers as Nobleman Jamison began to rant. “This—this  _moron_ ,” snarled the aggressive alpha  as he jerked a thumb at the priest, “can’t do his damn job!”

High Priest Peter scanned the documents and gave a small hum in the back of his throat. “I have to admit,” he said, “that I am confused as well.”

“See?” demanded Nobleman Jamison, self satisfaction rolling off him.

“Yes—why is this being contested?” asked Peter.

“What?”

Peter hummed again. “According to these papers,  Chandler Morison has decreed an heir to his business. It’s all perfectly routine.”

“He’s a beta!”

“He built his business himself,” High Priest Parker said, feigning confusion. He knew very well what was happening, of course; Nobleman Jamison wanted to add the highly successful Chandler business to his own wealth of businesses. “He’s perfectly within his rights to decide his own heir, the same as any business owner is.”

“Betas can’t breed!”

“But they can adopt. And just as a child adopted into the temple is a member of the temple, a child adopted by a beta belongs to the beta.”

Morison spoke up, his voice no louder than a whisper. “That girl knows almost everything I do,” he said timidly. “About both candle making and running a business in the largest city of Arachne.”

High Priest Peter nodded. “This is all in order,” he said as he handed the papers back to Priest Octavius. “Thank you for your time,” he added politely. “May tomorrow see you better than today.”

Jamison fumed as he stalked out of the door at the polite dismissal. Morison, eyes shining with unshed tears, briefly gripped Peter’s and before he followed out of the room and Peter sighed. “By the way,” said Priest Octavius as he tidied up the papers, “Her Majesty wanted me to remind you that you and your mate are due for a ‘private’ dinner with her, her mate, and the ambassador from Mysterio.”


	35. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A private dinner between Queen Mary Jane, General Harry, High Priest Parker, Wade, and the ambassador from Mysterio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long chapter here. Hope you don't mind. Bright side--my arm feels better. I might try to type another chapter. I might let it rest so I don't put too much strain on it. Either way, hope you enjoy. :)

Dinner with Royalty was, by necessity, a formal affair.  Especially since one of the invited happened to be an ambassador from another country. The five of them would sit at a table designed for six as they were served their meal. The servants would bring the course, the necessary utensils to eat it with, and take the plates when the course was finished.  Queen Mary Jane was in a gown of thin mist linen over a green dyed gown of spider silk, Harry was in his armor, and both Wade and Peter arrived in normal priest robes; Peter’s the natural color, and Wade’s a shocking blood red. 

Before the ambassador arrived, Mary Jane spoke to Peter. “You probably know more about Mysterio than any of us,” she said urgently. “Is there a specific reason for the ambassador to be unmated?”

To her surprise, it was Wade who answered. “They don’t trust us,” the alpha said calmly as he dropped, unceremoniously, into his seat. Peter, who had been raised with better manners by people he actually cared about,  gracefully took his own seat at the table. “In Mysterio omegas, as the ones who birth young, hold a special elevated status. Alphas who are mated are considered to have two important duties; that of  _protecting_ the omega they are mated to and that of  _providing_ seed for the young. So, the ambassador wouldn't have been an omega in the first place. They’re too precious for that.”

Mary Jane waited patiently for more information as she stared at the alpha, stunned by the depths of his mind. Oh, she’d always known that he wasn’t  _stupid_ ;  he couldn't have been  _and_ lived to adulthood in the snake’s nest that was his father’s court—but she’d never expected this level of insight from him. “And?” she prompted when it didn’t seem he was going to continue.

“And that’s why they sent an unmated alpha,” Wade explained with a shrug. “If he dies, there’s no mated omega or offspring back home who will be left defenseless. And he’s a powerful warrior,” Wade added with something that almost sounded like respect from his voice. Queen Mary Jane stared at the alpha.

Peter simply looked at his mate. “Have the two of you met before?” he asked with curiosity.

Wade ran a finger over the tabletop nervously. “It was back when  I was—working for the king of Reaper.”

Queen Mary Jane frowned slightly as Peter reached out and gently rubbed his mate’s arm. She wasn’t certain what Wade had done, for his father’s court, but she knew that it couldn't have been good. She hadn’t had a good opinion of the king before the whole incident where Wade had been captured. She could also tell, from the way Peter was acting, that this was not news to the omega. Peter already knew.

“What happened?” asked Peter.

“Oh, I went in, did—uh, the job—and almost got caught on the way out. Strange, last name of the ambassador guy, stabbed me with a stick on the way out.”

“He what?!” Peter gripped his mate’s arm and stared at the man.

“Stabbed me with a stick,” Wade said. Harry and Mary Jane eyed the man. He spoke the words with—admiration? When Peter’s hand clenched a little Wade covered it with one of his own. “Don’t worry,” he said with a cheerful grin. “I stabbed him back.”

“Through the hand,” drawled the Morphio Ambassador as he strode into the room. His cloak billowed around him like a living thing, the dark red fabric rustling softly. The dark haired alpha looked at the others and politely bowed. “Majesty,” he said formally.

Queen Mary Jane smiled. “Please,” she said warmly, “this is just a meal. Let’s have no formalities between us. Have a seat.”

He sat in the only empty chair and looked around the table as servants brought them some light beer and water to drink. “Thank you for your courtesy, Majesty,” the ambassador said.

“You stabbed my mate.”

Suddenly Peter had the full attention of the ambassador. Mary Jane couldn't see Peter’s face, from the angle, but  from the way the ambassador paled and began to slightly sweat, she bet it couldn't be good. From what Wade had said, the man couldn't lay a hand on Peter—not just because of his status as a High Priest, but because of his status as an omega. Not that he’d be able to beat Peter even if his own inclinations didn’t hold him back. Mary Jane had once seen Peter rip a tree out of the ground.

Wade reached over, pulled Peter in close to him, and planted a firm kiss on the omega’s head. “It’s okay,” he reassured Peter. “I stabbed him back.”

To anyone else, that wouldn't have been  reassuring. However, Peter did relax, and so did the Mysterio ambassador. Mary Jane waited to speak until the servants brought the first course, fine roast beef, and left again. Of course, there were servants listening. There always were. It was one of the side effects of being royal—her every little move was spied on except for when she went out as her maid.

“Mysterio Ambassador,” said Mary Jane formally.

The ambassador smiled as he quickly cut his meat. “Stephen, please,” he said.

“Mary Jane,” replied the Queen with her own smile. “At least in private,” she added as a touch of warning. Introductions went around the table and she noticed the ambassador’s hand tense on his eating knife as Peter gave his ties to the temple. The man’s eyes darted between Peter and Wade.

Wade could never let a silence ramble on without him speaking. “Lovely roast MJ,” he said warmly. “You should praise your cook.”

Harry chuckled. “You mean so she’ll stop giving you a hard time?” he teased.

“As big into spiders as you people are, you’d think people would be more open to the idea of serving a spider cooked food,” sighed Wade before cramming a piece of steaming food into his mouth.

“I think it was more the fact you were helping a spider courtship,” Harry observed.

Peter spoke up, and Mary Jane could hear the smile in his voice. “It worked,” he said. “And,” he added, “Wade’s gotten close to the nesting pair. There’s a chance she can still be saved from being feral.”

“Working on it, anyway. Hoping she’ll mellow with the eggs, slightly worried she’ll get more ferocious,” Wade said cheerfully.

“And who knew spiders like bread?” asked Peter. He turned and gave his alpha a kiss on the cheek.

“I think it might only be spiders from Arachne that eat bread,” said Stephen slowly.

The rest of the meal passed with the five of them speaking about nothing important. It wasn’t until the desert of honeyed dates was taken away that they turned their attention to darker, more serious matters. “What does Mysterio know about the—problems with Ajax?” Mary Jane asked as the servants brought them a wine. This particular beverage had been specially brewed to be low in alcohol.

“Ajax has summoned an ancient entity and is trying to turn it into a deity.”

“An evil entity,” interjected Wade.

Stephen frowned. “We don’t know that,” he admonished. “What we  _do_ know is that the people using it  _are_ evil—more than evil.” He grimaced. “We’ve gotten a few refugees from Ajax, mostly priests and priestesses. They  _really_ don’t like those in direct communion with the goddesses.”

Wade snorted. “They’re sure to  _love_ me then,” he drawled dryly. Peter reached out and gently took his hand. 

Stephen nodded. Harry leaned forwards. “How are they trying to turn it into a deity?”

At the same time Mary Jane asked, “What do you mean, it might not be evil?”

Stephen rubbed at the base of his hair line, where his sideburns began, over his temples. “What we know,” he said slowly, “is that this entity is ancient. There are stories about it that predate humans arriving in this world.”

“Humans aren’t from here?” asked three of the four voice. It took Mary Jane a moment to realize that Wade was the only one who hadn’t chimed in on the question, and a glance showed no surprise on his face. He had already known. Of course he had; he’d already been to Mysterio, and presumably this was information they all had.

“No. Long, long ago humans discovered a method of traveling from world to world. Shortly after they arrived here, there was an—incident, and most of the equipment they brought with them stopped working. We still have some of it, in Mysterio, and we work hard to keep what we do have from completely breaking down. If knowledge isn’t continuously used, it gets lost—just as it’s been lost in the other four kingdoms.” Stephen looked around at his audience and sighed. “Some of the stories about the entity, as Wade claimed, painted it as an evil, a darkness that wanted to absorb and destroy everything. Some of the stories say that it’s merely lost and alone, waiting for someone to truly understand it. We don’t know which is true. Maybe neither. Maybe both. But the way the Ajax alphas—and it’s only alphas, we don’t know why—are trying to bring it into our world, if it isn’t evil now, it will _become_ evil.” He spread his hands. “And we have no way to stop it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw a video on YouTube about the peacock spider. It's awesome. If you like spiders, you should check it out. :)


	36. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nobleman takes his personal army to attack the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning--I'm only *slightly* better at writing battle scenes than I am smut scenes, so--hope you enjoy anyway.

Later that night Peter and Wade were alone in their room, Wade gently massaging Peter’s shoulders. “Pete,” he said with perfect seriousness, “you can’t attack everyone that’s ever hurt me. It’s too big a list.”

Peter reached up, grabbed one of Wade’s hands, and kissed the palms. “I don’t like to think of you getting hurt,” he said to his mate.

Wade sat on the bed and pulled Peter into his lap, gently rubbing the omega’s back. “I know,” he said gently. He kissed Peter’s forehead and Peter melted into the embrace. “I know. I don’t like to think of you getting hurt either,” he said softly into Peter’s hair. “But you have to understand, in the job I used to do—I got hurt. I hurt other people. It’s in the past now.”

Peter leaned his head against Wade’s shoulder and gave a small hum. “I still don’t like it.”

“I don’t like the thought of you getting hurt either,” Wade said. He took his hand and gently ran it over one of Peter’s cheeks. “But you know—we’ll be going to war soon. Danger will happen. I might not—I might not come back.”

Peter reached up and gently ran his hand over the bottom of Wade’s jaw. “I’d find you,” he said. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow. I’ll find you and bring you back home.”

Wade hugged Peter tight as the omega leaned into his torso and closed his eyes. and the two of them sat there, on the bed, enjoying the comfort of the other’s company. At least until there was a frantic pounding on the door. “High Priest Parker!” called the young voice on the other side of it. “Acolyte Wade! You’re both needed!”

Peter opened one eye and gave a low growl. Wade chuckled and kissed him. “I know,” he said, “but they wouldn't interrupt if it wasn’t important.”

“If it isn’t,” Peter said grimly as he got up, “it will be.”

Harry met the two of them in the hallway standing behind a wide-eyed acolyte. He was holding his own sword, and two of the thin, curved blades that Wade liked to carry. He handed Wade the two thin swords. “We’re being attacked,” Harry said grimly.

“Again?!” demanded Peter irritably.

“Again,” affirmed the armed general as he led the way through the halls.

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” asked Wade as he strapped the sheaths of the swords over his back. The robes he was wearing weren’t ideal for a fight, but he’d had to do more with less before.

“Every so often one of the nobles will decide that MJ has lost the divine right to be queen,” Harry explained.

“They’re idiots,” snarled Peter. Wade sensed his bad mood wasn’t _just_ because they’d been interrupted mid-cuddle. “The goddess chose Mary Jane out of five candidates for the throne. If she’d lost the divine right to rule, the goddess would make sure we knew it.”

Wade had never guessed there was so much inner turmoil in Arachne. “Who’s leading the charge?” he asked Harry.

The armored alpha grimaced. “Nobleman Jamison.”

Wade frowned. The name sounded familiar. “Wasn’t he here yesterday?” he asked as they strode into the open courtyard, sounds of battle coming closer. Wade felt his blood began to pump hard as he listened for the onward continuing fight. The only thing stopping him from pulling the swords was Peter’s presence. If he pulled them now, the omega would get injured.

“He was,” Peter said grimly. “Disputing a beta’s right to pass his belongings to another beta.”

Most would agree with the nobleman—but not Peter. Peter was one of those rare individuals who truly believed that all humans were created equal, and used his position within the church to enforce that view onto the general populace. Most people appreciated it. Some took it as a personal affront.

When they reached the castle walls Peter leaped up and over them in one easy bound as Wade stared, jaw dropped at the sight of his little omega flying over the high wall. “I hope he’ll go easy on them this time,” muttered Harry as the two alphas continued walking towards the wall.

This time? “What happened last time?” asked Wade. That insane jumping ability must be one of the blessings that Peter had been gifted with.

“He used one of his blessings to pin the attackers to the outside of the castle wall,” Harry said. “He told them it was until they repented. While the attackers were webbed to the wall he, the priests, and the acolytes of the temple made several trips around the outside of the walls daily making sure the pinned had water and food. Bare rations, of course, but nothing they’d starve on.”

Wade grinned. He had no doubt that Peter had done just that, and preached at the invaders as they were hopelessly bound. Given such a humiliating display, Wade was a little surprised that anyone would dare to attack the castle again.

The grin faded as something occurred to him. “And the swords are for—?” he asked.

Harry grimaced. “Sometimes,” he growled as they neared the sounds of the fighting, “Peter doesn’t watch his back.”

Peter.

Peter could be in danger. Without another conscious thought, Wade leaped onto the wall. Unlike Peter, he wasn’t strong enough to leap over the thing in one bound, but he could swarm over the side—which he did. He raced across the soldier’s path on the top and surveyed the battlefield below him before drawing his swords and leaping down—to cut down the man creeping up behind Peter.

Peter was fighting bravely—but he was unarmed. He was quick, ducking in and under swords to hit the people wielding them. He was powerful, often knocking out his opponents with a single move. He was cocking his wrists to shoot some kind of thick, gooey substance at his opponents who got tangled up in it.

He was also the focus of the battlefield, and there were many of the enemy converging on him. They came up behind the priest—only to find themselves getting killed by the twin blades that Wade was wielding. Unlike Peter, Wade did not waste effort trying to keep his opponents alive. They were on a battlefield, and it was the duty of those on it to be prepared to die—especially if they were targeting his mate.

Soon the battle ended leaving bound living bodies and bloody corpses decorating the field in front of the castle. The few remaining soldiers followed their leader in a strategic retreat, and the only good thing Wade could say came of the battle was that there were no rider spiders, or spiders of any kind, in it. He’d developed quite the soft spot for those creatures.

After the battle the gates of the castle opened and reinforcements arrived to gather the dead for rights and to help Peter stick the living bound soldiers to the outside of the castle wall. Seemed the High Priest had a little bit of a theme for those who dared to disrupt the order of his home.

“Please, have mercy,” begged one of the soldiers that Wade picked up and firmly placed against the wall. To his surprise and delight, the webbing stuck without any more effort from him.

Wade grinned at the captive. “We are,” he said sweetly. “Why, my Peter is going through all this effort to give you a chance to repent your sins,” he added cheerfully. “So you’re just going to hang there, working on repenting, as you get fed and watered and prayed to. Don’t worry, this isn’t the first time this has happened, so I feel almost certain that no one will even wrinkle their little noses when you end up in your own filth.”

“Great Merciful Goddess,” swore the prisoner.

Wade pat him on the shoulder. “See?” he said brightly. “You’re already praying! You’ll be down in no time, three days, a week tops!” He turned and walked away from the stuck soldier as he scanned the bodies on the ground to see which ones were still alive.

“You are an evil entity,” Harry said dryly.

Wade shot the other alpha a glare. “They interrupted cuddle time,” he grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually meant to post it last night, but it was longer than I thought it would be when I started typing it. So, let me know what you think of my battle writing. Or anything in general.


	37. Entity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see things from the dark entity's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter, but I hope an engaging one. :)

The entity was ancient. It didn’t know how long it existed, but it became aware when humans noticed it. Sometimes it was summoned, but most of the time it just existed. The times it was summoned were rare jewels in its existence, and it did its best to become whatever the humans summoning it wanted it to be.

This, however, was the first time it had almost been summoned, but not quite. While it could not affect the world of the humans, it could see it. For the first time in its existence, it could experience what humans felt. It saw the raw fear and pain as the human picked to be its host recovered from the injuries inflicted to make the body a true host.

It saw love, both from the host and from the host’s partner, lover, mate. It saw the way the other human looked at the one picked to be its host. The care, the affection, the love. 

It saw frustration, as the host was instantly frightening for those around it, people who were instinctively frightened by the scarring as their hidden memories remembered what that particular scarring meant. The host itself was  _not_ a danger,  _not_ the thing it could have been had it taken over, but they didn’t know that. They didn’t understand that.

And yet, the mate was there. Calming, understanding, loving. It could understand why the host thought the mate was precious.

It saw that the host went into the realm of the goddesses. It could not actually see into the realm, their realm was not its realm, but it saw when the host came back. The host managed to push it back, push it away—but not to sever the link. It could still watch.

It saw the work that went into helping the giant spider win its mate. The research, the questions, the asking for help.  It saw the elation when the spider succeeded. It saw the host formally claim its mate.

It withdrew slightly, not enough to sever the link. The other humans were trying to summon it again, to find it a new host. It was not interested.

This host, even though (or maybe because) it hadn’t taken it over, was fascinating. It had never seen humans like this before, just going about their daily lives. True, they were preparing for war with the humans trying to summon it, but they were still doing things it never would have thought humans did.

It watched as a human, the one normally seen in the place food was prepared, stopped the host and handed the host a basket of bread. It couldn't hear words, but it could feel the emotions— _confused,happy, sad—_ that the host felt.

It wanted to know more.


	38. Weaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade talk, and then go visit Spot and his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might not be a chapter tonight. Almost wasn't this morning, but I had to finish it. :) Hope everyone enjoys. :)

“I will _not_ have a rider spider invading my kitchen again!” snarled the cook.

“He didn’t _technically_ invade the kitchen,” Wade argued as she glared at him. “More like—stuck a leg in.”

She glared at him before pushing an errant strand of hair out of her face. “His legs,” she said grimly, “are wider than most of my staff! _None_ of a rider spider should be in the kitchen, _they are too big_. You,” she snarled as she thrust the basket of bread at him, “will take him his bread, and I will have no more rider spiders invading my kitchen!” She whirled and stomped off.

“What’s this about?” asked Peter curiously.

“Oh, Spot came back for more bread.”

“Ah.”

Wade wasn’t certain what Peter meant by that. “Want to come with me?” he asked. “See how they’re doing?”

“Wouldn’t we be—intruding?” asked Peter cautiously.

“I don’t think so,” said Wade as he thought about it. “I don’t know—have you ever heard of another instance where a human helped a rider spider, or any kind of spider, win a mate?”

Peter’s brow crinkled in thought and Wade suppressed the desire to smooth the wrinkles out. That would be fun and distracting—and he really didn’t want to know what the cook would do if the two of them were so distracted they didn’t get the bread delivered.

“I can’t think of one,” Peter said with a frown. “The only humans that interfere with the breeding process are professional breeders, and the most they do is isolate the spiders with the traits they want.”

“Aside from he-who-shall-not-be-named,” said Wade.

Peter’s gaze hardened. “Flash,” he said grimly, “is still in the dungeons, serving his penance.”

Wade could sense, as well as see, his mate’s agitation at the mention of the former nobleman. “Since this is new,” said Wade as he slung an arm around Peter’s shoulder, “why don’t we go and see? I’m sure Spot misses you.”

Peter gave him a smile, and allowed him to change the subject. “Maybe we should stop by the stable so I can grab his favorite brush—just in case.”

Wade chuckled. “Just in case,” he repeated with a wink.

“Acolyte Wade.”

Wade didn’t realize he was growling at the petite blond until Peter gave him a firm nudge in the ribs. She was not fazed as she glared up at him with her arms crossed over her chest. “You will not,” she said firmly, “learn how to weave if you do not spend time in front of a loom!”

Wade opened his mouth to retort that he had no interest in _ever_ spending time in front of a loom, especially not with her droning teaching voice, when Peter spoke up. “Miss Gwen,” Peter said as he addressed the teacher—who was _not_ part of the temple, “I have an idea.”

“Oh?” demanded the blond. Her foot began tapping irritably against the stone floor of the temple.

“Why don’t we move one of the floor looms into my room, and I’ll teach him how to weave?”

The young woman nibbled her bottom lip in thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. You have a lot to do, High Priest Parker.”

“I can do it all and teach my mate,” Peter said calmly.

The young woman nodded. “Done,” she agreed. “Acolyte Wade, you are no long a member of my class. Try to control your enthusiasm,” she droned dryly as she glared at the bigger man. She nodded to Peter and then strode off; presumably to move a loom.

“I’m not sure I have the patience for weaving,” Wade muttered.

Peter heard him, and laughed. “Wade,” the omega said warmly as he leaned against his mate, “I’ve seen you spend hours running a stone along the edge of your blades to keep them sharp, or to get nicks out of them. You have the patience. You don’t have the desire.”

“Ah—”

Peter merely chuckled and steered the two of them towards the forest. “Perhaps,” he added throatily as they made their way, “I should add a reward system. Say, for every inch woven?”

Wade could feel his face heating up at the suggestion, and coughed slightly as they stepped onto the path. The clearing that Spot had made had become, by some odd coincidence, a spot for couples and families to picnic in. “Perhaps,” Wade finally choked out. Peter just chuckled and tucked himself next to Wade’s side as they walked.

Wade knew where to go, of course. It wasn’t long before he stepped off the path, picking a trail, and holding Peter’s hand to make sure the omega could make it. Logically, he knew that Peter probably had better footing than he did, but he still wanted to protect his mate. And Peter must have understood, because he said nothing about it.

Using his newfound skills, Spot had made a clearing for him and his mate, the feral rider spider that Wade had secretly taken to calling “Unicorn.” Instead of letting the sun shine through the resulting hole in the canopy, Spot had pulled the tops of several of the thin trees down and webbed them together to make a nest. When Peter and Wade arrived they saw Unicorn and Spot in the nest with a what looked like a giant cocoon.

“Oh,” breathed Peter, “she’s laid her eggs. I’d wondered.”

Spot saw them and rushed towards them. If Peter hadn’t been blessed with supernatural strength, the rider spider would have knocked him over as he rubbed his head against the human and chirred happily. Peter simply laughed and pulled out the brush to go through the fine fur.

As rider spider and human were getting more acquainted, Wade sidled up to the shelter that Unicorn was in, and held out the basket of bread. The spider watched him warily for a moment. Then, she reached out and caught the basket with a leg before retreating back into the nest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. I didn't mean to make a Harry Potter reference. It just happened.


	39. Ajax 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis takes the throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, another short chapter. But an intense one.

The court was buzzing with worry as the storm howled outside the building. The people were chilled and worried.  The world should be turning green, crops should be growing—but they weren’t. Instead the country of Ajax, the “Golden Kingdom,” was locked in a whirling blizzard that refused to leave.

The king was losing support. When they had begun this venture, this mission to overthrow the goddesses with their own choice, everyone had supported it. Who wouldn't want to create a god?

The blizzard moved in, and didn’t leave.  People were beginning to starve. To make matters worse not once, since the blizzard moved in, had any omega in the kingdom gone into heat or an alpha into rut. It was almost as though the entire kingdom had been reduced to betas. Something had to be done.

Francis did something. As the king stepped down from his throne to address the gathered, Francis stepped forward and stabbed the alpha in the back with his sword. He bent down and pulled the crown off the head of the body, rapidly cooling in the chilly room.

He looked around at the stunned people. “I think we all agree,” he said, “that it is time for a change. Time for a new strategy. Time—for a new plan.” He put the crown on his head and the assembled crowd cheered.

“What should we do, Sire?” asked one of the guards subserviently.

Francis had thought long and hard about it, and then he grinned. “The first thing,” he said firmly, “is that we should go raiding. We need fresh food, and it is more than time to set aside old ways. ‘Don’t steal from the neighbors’,” he quoted mockingly. “Well, this is about surviving. Raid the farms in Reaper, Morphio, and Arachne. Stay away from Mysterio,” he warned, “we don’t want them to poke their noses out of their little kingdom until it’s too late.”

“What will we be taking?” asked a low, sly voice.

Francis smiled. “Well, since  _our_ omegas don’t seem to want to go into heat, lets grab a few of theirs,” he began. 


	40. Summoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambassador Stephen has a long distance conference with someone from his home country before getting summoned to a meeting with Queen Mary Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy.

Stephen looks through the crystal, a communication device, at Tony, prime minister to King Steve. Tony’s cheeks are hallow, he has huge bags under both eyes, and neither his hair nor his goatee have been tended to in quite some time. “So,” Tony said to summarize what Stephen said, “the Arachnids managed to save the alpha being prepared to be the new vessel before the entity could actually move in and take over.”

Stephen winces and taps his hand on the table in front of him nervously. “That’s not all,” he said grimly. “The man who was prepared as a vessel is now mated to the High Priest of Arachne.”

Tony rolled his dark eyes. “Well  _that_ doesn’t complicate things at all,” he growled dryly.

Stephen understood the sentiment.  It would have been easier, if the man hadn’t been mated, to simply kill him. Kill the vessel, and the entity lacked a link, lacked a way into the world. However—to kill an omega’s mate, particularly early in the bond, would be to kill the omega as well and that was unconscionable.  Besides, after hearing about how quickly Wade healed after being injured (a blessing that had yet to expire), Stephen wasn’t certain it was even possible to kill the alpha anymore. It might even have been for the best that the man  _had_ bonded.  A bond might cement his soul to his body too firmly to be displaced by the entity, even if the man got captured again.

Stephen also knew better than to mention any of it. “There’s more,” he added in a lighter tone. “The spiders in Arachne—they’re huge. When that guy told us they were big enough to ride, he was not exaggerating.”

“Pepper will be absolutely horrified,” Tony said with the soft, wry smile he always got when speaking of his mate. He rubbed absently at the silver bonding mark on his neck. 

“Only until she meets one. They’re as friendly as those prissy little lapdogs,” Stephen added with disgust. He hated those lapdogs. He actually liked the spiders much better—maybe he should see if it was possible to get one of the knee-high ones, they seemed easier to care for than the giant ones. Just as needy, but a lot smaller.

Tony shook his head. “There’s more,” he said. His tone wasn’t grim, but informative. “Pepper can’t sense the entity.”

Stephen suddenly straightened as he stared at the image in the crystal. “What?” he asked, mind whirling. They had been alerted to the entity being summoned by Pepper—her unique ability allowed her sense the entity on the edge of their realm. “What does that mean? Has it been summoned?”

Tony shrugged and Stephen could see how helpless the alpha looked. “I don’t know. Neither does she. I don’t think there’s anything from Ajax to indicate they successfully summoned the entity they want to become their god.”

“Good goddess,” swore Stephen.

There was a timid knock on the door. “Ambassador Stephen?” called a small, young voice. Stephen, being the expert in voices and tones as he was, absently identified the voice as belonging to that young messenger of the temple and the child being anxious.

Stephen quickly waved a hand over the crystal, and it hummed before it went dark on its stand. He waited for the energy to dissipate before he got up and answered the door. “Yes?” he asked the small child.

The boy looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes and Stephen wondered what scared him so much. Was it having to deal with someone of ambassador rank? Somehow he doubted it. “Her Majesty requests your presence in the Opal Audience Chamber,” the boy said softly, shyly.

Stephen bit back a sigh, not wanting to frighten the boy any more. His cloak left its peg by the door and settled over his shoulders making the kid grin. At least his living cloak wasn’t frightening the child more. “Please,” he said with a gallant bow before closing the door firmly behind him in the illusion of security (he was well aware that maids came in while he was gone to clean the room). “Show me the way.”

The kid shot him a bit a grin before leading him through the halls. Stephen walked calmly behind the boy, hands firmly clasped behind his back as he looked around. The buildings in Mysterio were far more—controlled, closed in. There were more walls. Here in Arachne, almost every room that wasn’t a private room was open with decorated support pillars instead of walls. He wondered if the rider spiders came inside.  The place seemed designed for it.

The Opal Audience Chamber was a closed room. The surfaces inside—black pillars against white walls and green ceiling—seemed to be iridescent, like opals. He wondered if they  _were_ opals—but no. That was impossible. The pillars were made of large columns and the walls were made of large blocks. Opals simply didn’t come that large. He still had to admire the effect.

Inside the chamber were two thrones—Queen Mary Jane sat on one, in what Stephen recognized as her “formal” gown, and the general she was mated to sat in the other, despite not having been formally crowned yet. To one side of the throne stood the High Priest and his mate, and to the other the army commander. In front of them, on a small stool, sat an elderly man.

“I apologize for being late, Your Majesty,” said Stephen. She inclined her head at him, her attention focused on the man on the stool.

“Your prompt arrival is much appreciated,” the Queen said. “We are but waiting on the Reaper and Morphio ambassadors before We begin.”

Stephen bowed and took an easy stance to the left of the door, in easy visibility of those  entering the room. He’d only made the mistake of standing on the right side of the door, out of visibility when the door was opened, once. Luckily, his king’s mate was an understanding alpha who had stopped attacking quickly enough.  Even luckier that the living cloak was up to the attack.

T he door opened once more to admit the Morphio Ambassador, a young woman, omega, with amazingly white hair. “Ambassador Felicia,” said the queen with a nod of her head.

The other ambassador bowed. “Your Majesty,” she said before stepping to the left of the door. She tucked her hands into the small of her back and braced her legs slightly apart as they waited.

They had been in silence (the only fidgeting coming from the High Priest’s mate, who seemed bored) when the door was slammed open and an out of breath boy, in temple clothing, burst in. “Your Majesty,” he gasped. “The Reaper ambassador has been attacked!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--any guesses as to why? (I already know; just asking to see where my lovely audience's head is at.) Astound me with your theories--points to the people who are right, playing by Who's Line rules. :)


	41. Ambassador

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reason for the attack on the former ambassador of Reaper is revealed, and there is a moment of fluff at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The former ambassador is in the temple while the guards and soldiers look for her attacker.

“I am no longer the Reaper Ambassador,” Vanessa, former ambassador, stated to the assembled group. One of her eyes was blackened, her arm was in a sling, and she was walking with a limp, but otherwise looked fine.

Then again, as Wade knew, those who represented the country had to be tough. They had to be able to take a beating and keep walking. There were consequences to not being able to do so. Wade knew that all too well.

It was sad, really. He liked this new ambassador a lot better than the old one. Unlike Nate, Wade had no bad history with  _her…_

“What happened?” asked Peter calmly.

She laughed bitterly. “I got a visit,” she said. “Seems his  _Majesty_ ,” she snarled, “was unhappy with the way I’ve failed to send Wade home.”

“Wade is an acolyte now,” Peter said. Wade turned and looked at his mate, surprised by the fierce, protective tone. Exactly what had happened between Peter and Nate before Nate had been sent home?

“I am well aware. _And_ he’s gotten the horses. He doesn’t care.”

Yeah, that sounded like his father. Got the lovely prize for having a son accepted into a temple, only to not care that his so n doesn’t belong to him any more, isn’t there for—certain things. Wade’s mind shunted away from the memories. He didn’t realize he was broadcasting his anxiety until Peter slipped a hand in his and gave a gentle squeeze. 

H e took a deep breath. He was  _here_ , he was with  _Peter_ , and there was nothing that could endanger that. Well, aside from the upcoming war with Ajax.

“The king of Reaper,” said former ambassador Vanessa with a wince as she moved and pulled something, “has decided to no longer honor the goddesses.”

Wade stared at the woman. No. Surely not even  _his_ father could be that stupid—

“He’s decided to ally with Ajax and wants his son as a bargaining chip.”

Apparently yes, his father could be that stupid. “ That idiot,” he said wearily.

Vanessa gave a lopsided grin. “I know.”

Peter gave a sigh. “Ambassador Vanessa,” he said.

“Former,” she corrected with a wince.

“Former Ambassador Vanessa,” continued Peter without missing a beat, “you are injured and tired. Go rest and heal.”

“I do not believe,” Vanessa said carefully, “Her Majesty would want me to stay here.”

“This is my temple,” Peter said firmly, “and I say who is welcome in it. Go. Rest. Heal. Or I will have the little spiders carry you to a bed and weave you to it.”

Vanessa opened her mouth and Wade interjected. “Remember,” he told her, “to an Arachnid, a spider the size of their foot is ‘small’.”

She closed her mouth. “Very well,” she said graciously. Only the widening of her eyes  showed how nervous she suddenly was. “Thank you for your hospitality, High Priest.”

“Well,” drawled Wade as she left the weaving room (there hadn’t quite been enough space for one to be put in his and Peter’s room, but Wade was enjoying the reward system anyway), “it’s been a while. Let’s go visit Spot!”

“All right,” agreed Peter. “But this time, let’s take two sets of brushes.” Still holding Wade’s hand he led the way to the stables.

“Two?” asked Wade as they walked.

“Two,” confirmed Peter. “I think Unicorn is going to let you groom her today.”

“Really?” asked Wade. Peter grabbed the two grooming brushes and they went to the kitchen for a basket of bread before going out to the forest.

“How big are spiders in your former kingdom?” asked Peter with curiosity.

Wade gave him a lopsided grin. “Small enough that you probably never even noticed them. Most spiders in Reaper  range in size between the head of a sewing pin and a  small copper coin.” He knew that Peter would try to imagine living in a world where spiders were just part of the background—and he’d fail. There was no way to imagine it unless someone had actually lived it.

He wasn’t certain why the giant spiders were so rare outside Arachne’s borders. It couldn't be the climate;  Mysterio had almost exactly the same one as Arachne and while Arachne was filled to the brim with giant spiders who, if they wanted, could eat people with less effort  than people in Reaper stepped on spiders (normal Reaper spiders, anyway)—it was just  _to_ the brim. Only to the border and then—normal spiders. He supposed it  _was_ possible that the spiders were, as the people of Arachne claimed, blessings from their goddess.

All musings were pushed out of his head when they reached  Spot’s clearing nest and forgotten when they discovered that yes, the feral riders spider  _was_ willing to let Wade groom her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of not the best, but I felt compelled to add a little bit of fluff.


	42. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and MJ have a telling conversation, and then Peter and Wade have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this last night before work, but I overslept and couldn't get it written.

Survivors, refugees from Reaper, trickled into Arachne. They were beaten, starving, and most of them suffering from some form of frostbite. The tales they had to tell were, quite frankly, disturbing.

First: raiders had come from Ajax. They’d swarmed the border without warning—but they didn’t kill, they didn’t conquer. No, their aim was far more sinister than that. They hit villages, stealing crops and cattle, killing those who dared to resist—and taking omegas. They did not take children or infants, but those who were old enough to have had their first heat.

Second: a terrible blizzard had come out of nowhere, to settle over the capital of Reaper. The winds howled with force unlike anything anyone had seen—and no few of them were former military, who had been stationed in the north of Reaper when the winter winds and blizzards came.

No one knew where the blizzard had come from. It was time for the growing season, not the winter winds. Crops within Reaper were doomed, and people were fleeing. Arachne, Morphio, and Mysterio were welcoming the refugees, and within Arachne several locations had been set up to teach the refugees to fight. They all knew they’d be facing battle soon.

Peter and MJ watched as Wade and Harry trained a group of former Reaper soldiers. “Have you told him yet?” his Queen and best friend asked.

“Have you?” he countered with a significant glance towards her abdomen.

She chuckled. “Oh,” she said, “Harry knows. He’s excited to be a father.” She caught the grimace on Peter’s face. “Is Wade not?”

Peter sighed. “Wade is—I’m not sure. Every time I try to bring up the two of us having children he points out that the fourteen of the temple are ours.” He watched as his mate disarmed a sparring soldier and then calmly pointed out the weaknesses in the soldiers’ stance. “And with what’s coming—I’m not sure I should mention it.”

MJ frowned. “Peter, it may be too soon for separation,” she told him.

“It’s necessary,” Peter argued with impeccable logic. “The border needs the High Priest to reassure the priests taking refuge that they are not to blame for their king’s madness. This is an assurance they will not accept from anyone less than High Priest, so as the High Priest I must go.”

“Perhaps,” said MJ, trying to create something salvagable from this, “he could go with you.”

Peter’s face turned stony and dark. “Those—people,” the closes Peter came to cursing, “have already tried to take him from me. I don’t want them anywhere near him.” The two of them watch in silence for a moment more. “I’m a lot more selfish than you think I am,” he said, softly.

“Perhaps. Perhaps,” MJ countered, “you’re just as selfish as you need to be.”

The training paused and Harry and Wade, seeing their mates in the shade of the castle, held up their hands to call them over, almost identical pleased expressions on their faces. The two omegas calmly left the shade and walked into the blazing sun towards their mates. Harry graced MJ with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Wade bent Peter back into an enthusiastic kiss that elicited cheers and hollers from the assembled soldiers.

When they broke apart Wade grinned at his mate who smiled lovingly back. “Let’s go to our room,” Peter suggested softly.

“Anything you say,” agreed Wade with a wide grin. He turned to the soldiers. “All right!” he ordered. “You’ve gotten a reprieve. My mate wants me right now!”

“Aw! We don’t have mates yet!” complained one of the soldiers.

“Not my problem,” said Wade as he scooped Peter up in his arms. He kissed his mate on the cheek. “Let’s go!” he said excitedly. Peter just chuckled and curled up in his mate’s arms, enjoying the feel of having his mate right there, holding him. He didn’t know how long he’d get to feel it.

Later, when they were done and lying beside one another, they begin to talk. “There are priests,” he said as he lazily traced one of Wade’s scars with a finger, “gathering at the border. They’re afraid to come further into the kingdom, and we’re afraid to leave them there.”

Wade captured the hand and kissed it. “And you want to go make sure they know its safe for them here,” he said softly as he reached over with his free hand and gently ran his fingers through Peter’s sweaty hair.

Peter leaned into the soft, comforting touch. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Wade pulled his mate closer and pressed a firm kiss to the omega’s head. “It’s dangerous,” he said.

“Yeah.” Peter was silent for a moment. “Wade I—I want you to stay here.”

“What? Why?” Wade bolted up.

Peter sat up and reached for his mate. “I’m scared,” he confessed. “I’m scared that if you—if you get close to the border and Ajax learns you’re there, or your father learns you’re there…” His voice trailed off and he looked away. Did he really have the right to do this, to ask this of his mate?

Wade pulled Peter close. “If that will make you feel better,” he said softly, “I’ll stay here.” He pressed another kiss to his mate’s brow. He gently pushed his mate slightly away, keeping a thumb near his ear. “But if anything happens,” he swore, “and you need me, I’ll come as fast as I can.”

Peter smiled and brought a hand up to the one against his face. “I know you will,” he said softly. He tilted his head for another full kiss and Wade obliged.

This time, afterwards, they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo! Is anybody else chilled, or is it just me?


	43. Border

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is arguing with a priest from Reaper as the camp he's in is suddenly attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to something. I'm going somewhere with this. (And you might want to wait until the next chapter is up to read. I'll try to make it quick.)

Peter looked at the foreign priest and reminded himself that it was a bad idea to kill another person. It was especially a bad idea to kill another priest. While it was true that they served different goddesses, they shared the same core beliefs and no matter what certain people thought, they were supposed to lead by their examples, and they were supposed to put the people they served _first_.

Pity that most of his problems right now could be solved if he just gave up on his scruples and killed a couple of key priests.

He tried to be understanding; they had just been run out of their home, they were in a strange land, and they were being confronted with rider spiders for the very first time which, if what Wade had said was anything to go by, looked impossibly huge to them. They had no idea what was going to happen to them, if they were going to be able to find new temples, or even why their former king had rejected them in the first place. Their very lives were now broken and they were scrambling desperately to fix them.

Peter understood all of that; he really did. However, he also understood that he was pregnant, he was _way_ too far from his mate, and these idiots were making things worse. Much worse. He just wanted to get them settled and go _home_.

“We do not,” Peter repeated firmly, gently despite an increasing desire to throttle the idiot in front of him, “have the resources to either build or guard a temple on the border. You may not have realized this, but the country is about to go to war.”

“We must have a temple!” repeated the priest. For the twentieth time.

Peter took a deep, stabilizing breath before speaking. He was glad that he had both hands under the table, so that no one saw how hard he was clenching his fists. “I understand that,” Peter said as calmly as possible. “We’re prepared,” he continued quickly as the other priest opened his mouth to speak, “to grant you a place for your new temple, _inside_ Arachne. However,” he cautioned, “it has to be away from the border.”

“If we’re too far from our country, how will our goddess know we’re still worshiping her?” demanded the priest.

_Maybe because she’s a powerful, all-knowing goddess_ , thought Peter. He took another deep breath. “Our goddesses,” he said slowly, as if he was teaching an acolyte, “know us. They know our minds, our hearts, and our intentions. If you set up a temple to Her, She will know.”

The other priest frowned. “I’m worried,” he said, “about our followers. How will they know that the temple is still active?”

Peter gentled his voice. After all, it wasn’t _his_ followers in danger, he wasn’t sure how he’d react if they were. Perhaps he’d be just as frustrating and dim as this priest was being. “We’ve made sure,” he assured the priest, “that word has gone out that we’re accepting refugees from Reaper. They’ll know,” he added.

“I still—”

There was a commotion outside. “What in the world?” wondered Peter as he stood up. He wobbled slightly—his legs were partially asleep from the long, drawn out argument with the other priest.

Outside the tent he stared at the border for a moment. Oh, he’d seen it when he arrived, but it was still shocking. Never, in all his life, had the border between Reaper and Arachne been so clear. In Arachne summer was just beginning; the world was green, vibrant. Full of life.

Very different from the cold blizzard blanketing the view of Reaper. The howling winds stole at the heat on Arachne’s side of the border, making the tents a necessity to protect them from the chill winds as the snow swirled right up to the edge of the border—but not one snowflake crossed it. The snow on the Reaper side of the border was so thick that it was difficult to see in more than a few feet with thick, black clouds laced with lightning above it. Clouds that, when it came to the Arachne border, came to a screeching halt. Not so much as a wisp of cloud flowed into Arachne, where the sun shone warmly and the insects buzzed gently as the army’s rider spiders softly chirred to themselves as they dozed.

Or, would have been dozing, had battle not been erupting all around them. The Reaper priest pulled out a sword (all the priests from Reaper carried weapons, as they were considered gifts from their Goddess) and both he and Peter lunged into battle as soldiers melted into view, caked in the snow. As they crossed into Arachne, they were met with swords, arrows, knives, and webs. Still the enemy pressed forward. Still they came.

It seemed, to those in the camp, as though for every enemy soldier cut down another three appeared. Another three soldiers intent on killing, rampaging, and stealing. The Arachnid forces fought with all they had, but the enemy fought with the strength of the cornered. When it was clear to Commander Osborn that the battle was lost, he calmly put the smallest person on the fastest rider spider and sent them to warn the others.

Peter fought, and fought, and fought—until exhaustion hit. Mid swing his body stumbled and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath. The priest he’d been arguing with had fallen long before.

“What have we _here_ ,” said a voice. A hand gripped the hair at the back of Peter’s head and forced his head back to look at the soldier. The soldier’s eyes widened greedily as they took in Peter’s body. “Well! Not just an omega, but a pregnant one! His Majesty’s going to be so _pleased_!”

A tiny part of Peter’s brain, still analytical, noted that there were no pheromones in the air to tell him if the soldier holding him was alpha, omega, or even beta. Peter could smell the blood from the fallen soldiers, hints of frightened, desperate pheromones from those who were still alive—but nothing from this enemy soldier. He had no more pheromones than the Arachnid army had had back when they went on the rescue mission for Wade.

The enemy soldier forced Peter to his feet and the rest of his mind gibbered with fear as he reached, reached through the bond he shared with his mate, and cried out before something impacted with his head and he fell unconscious.

_Wade!_


	44. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade senses Peter's danger, and rushes to the rescue as fast as he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a trigger warning here! The story will be visiting the battlefield where the Arachnid camp got overrun, and someone dies on screen.

Wade jerked, hand shaking as he dropped his sword and stared vacantly into the distance. He could hear it. He could _feel_ it. Peter needed help. Peter needed _him_ . Then, just as suddenly as he’d felt the fear, the pain, the _need—_ it was gone. Poof! Almost like Peter didn’t exist any more.

_No_.

He pivoted and, automatically sensing the movement, ducked as the oncoming sword swung right where his neck would have been if he hadn’t moved. “You’re showing promise,” he said absently as he turned. “Practice among yourselves for now,” he ordered before breaking into a run. He had to find the others to tell them.

Harry had, for the sake of the unborn child growing in Mary Jane, not led the army to the border. A good decision, a _wise_ decision considering that distance between a mated omega and alpha could be painful for the omega when the bond was not just new, but the omega was carrying new life. That meant that Harry was _here_ , and Wade wasted no time in finding the general.

“Harry!” he yelled as he grabbed the general out of a meeting.

“Wa—Wade!” choked the general as he pulled at the arm around his neck. When Wade let go the other alpha demanded, “What is going on?”

“Something’s happened to Peter.”

Instantly Harry’s demeanor changed. “Come on,” he said hauling Wade down the hall.

One of the benefits to being mated to the Queen was that the alpha had access to the omega at any given time. Quickly he pulled Mary Jane aside and told her what he’d learned from Wade. Neither of them questioned it; they knew about the bond. The queen closed her eyes in pain for a moment before she met Wade’s gaze firmly. “It will take time,” she told him grimly, “to get together a rescue mission.”

Wade, anxious from that blank feeling, shook his head, eyes wild. “I can’t wait!” he told them.

“Don’t.”

The single word was all he needed and he fled through the halls of the castle. He knew where he needed to go. He knew who he needed to get help from.

“Acolyte Wade.” He almost didn’t stop. But the voice—calming, soothing when previously yelling—made him stop. He turned to see Miss Gwen standing in the hall. She was holding a bulging bag, one of the single strapped bags that looked like the ones from army back when they’d gone to rescue Wade. He met kind, blue eyes in the petite face. “Here,” she said gently as she held out the bag. “I—I heard what happened. You’ll need supplies. The army will have more, when—when it gets there.”

“Thank you.” Wade took the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

She swallowed, eyes bright with tears. “Just—just bring him back safe. Bring _both_ of you back safe,” she said before turning and running down the hall in the other direction.

Wade nodded in a silent promise and turned to head towards the stables. Shortly before Peter had left, Spot and Unicorn had brought their eggs into the castle stables, into _Spot’s_ old stable. Unicorn had settled down a lot, not even threatening the little stable children when they came to look, with wide eyes, at the eggs.

According to Peter, most rider spider eggs were milky white or pale blue. Unicorn’s eggs, were pink, and shimmered in the light. They were beautiful, and everyone like to look at them. Before Peter had left he and Wade had—

Wade forced that thought away. He had a mission now, and he went to see the two rider spiders. The stall, huge by Reaper standards, looked small with the two spiders and their eggs in it. The eggs, twenty seven of them, were in a small pile near the back of the stable when he reached it, both spiders watching the eggs. They turned when he arrived.

“Spot,” Wade said as his heart dropped. He wasn’t Peter. The spiders couldn't understand him like they did him. Still, he had to try. He’d never make it in time if he went on foot. “Spot, I need help. Peter is—Peter is in trouble. The army’s going to try and rescue him—but they won’t make it in time. They can’t. So, so— _please_.” He trailed off as an unvoiced sob tore at his throat. He looked up as Spot ran a foreleg over him and Unicorn climbed the wall to get around him. She came back holding a terrified looking Myles and deposited him, gently but firmly, next to the eggs.

Myles nearly bent in half in his desperation to not actually touch the eggs as Unicorn shoved him towards them. “What?” he demanded in shock. His eyes locked on Wade. “What’s going on?”

“I think she wants you to take care of her eggs,” Wade said as Spot picked him up and put him on Unicorn’s back. He gripped the horn as the two spiders left the stables. They ran into the forest and then, to his shock, _both_ spiders began jumping as they moved from tree to tree heading towards the border. Moving _faster_ than when they were on the ground.

Wade didn’t care. He held on for dear life, not sure how he was managing to cling to the spider’s back as they moved, faster and faster, through the forest. He barely noticed when branches cut into his body with the speed they were moving at and his body automatically healed around the injury. His entire being was focused on the border, on where he’d last known Peter to be. They forest moved into a blur around them.

He held his breath as they reached a battlefield. It wasn’t his first battlefield, by any means, and with the way Ajax was on the move, he doubted it would be his last. From the looks of this field, almost devoid of life, the camp had been overwhelmed with sheer numbers. It was a devastating strategy—if the army had the numbers to throw away. But had Peter been here? Was he—was he _one_ of the bodies?

No. No, he couldn't be. If Peter was dead, Wade would know. He would have _felt_ it. He began searching through the bodies, desperately searching for one survivor, one person who would know what happened to Peter.

He didn’t realize that the spiders had split up from him as he searched until he heard Spot’s distinctive keening and ran over to the rider spider. The spider was partially over an elderly man wearing the dark red that Wade vaguely remembered as belonging to those in the priesthood of Reaper. The man let out a low, painful sounding cough as bloody spittle passed his lips.

Familiar with the specter of death in all Her forms, Wade knew the man didn’t have long to live. He gently pried the body from the ground and saw that the man’s lower half had been trampled. A small, analytical part of Wade’s mind noted the distinctive marks of hooves on the broken bones. “They took,” whispered the man.

“What?” Wade leaned down so he could hear the man better.

“They took the priest.” The elderly man coughed and more bloody spittle left his mouth. “Ajax. High Priest.” The man gripped Wade’s shirt with a weak fist and wild eyes. “Must—save!”

“I’ll save him,” swore Wade as life passed through the man’s body and into the goddess’s mercy.

The bond mark throbbed for a moment, and Wade went weak with relief as he was assaulted with a mixture of _fear, anger, hatred_ . Peter was alive. He wanted to scream with joy: _Peter was alive_!

In the next moment the joy was gone. Peter was alive—and in the hands of the people who had tortured Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that was an intense chapter, but think of this: Technically, Wade rode to the rescue on a fuzzy pink unicorn.


	45. Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up incarcerated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay--kind of a dark chapter. Not going to lie. It is intense, and there is no fuzzy unicorn in this one.

The first thing that Peter noticed was the chill. The stone he was lying on was leaching heat from his body, and he curled around his stomach to protect the small life growing within. Where was he? What had happened? His mind was foggy, memories blurred, and he tried to sort things out. He remembered getting angry. He remembered—snow. Snow? But it was summer. But—it was also cold. How long had been out? What happened?

He pushed himself up off the stone and looked around. He couldn't see much; it was dark where he was—wherever he was. He was certainly nowhere near Arachne. Nowhere in Arachne was a building made of such dark stone, and the only places with walls this close together were those in the dungeons and those in the temples.

“Is he awake yet?” demanded an irritable voice.

“I do not believe so, Sire,” said a fawning, and irritatingly familiar voice.

There was the sound of a dark smack and something fleshy hitting something hard. Given how much time Peter spent at the training grounds (although these days he mostly watched Wade), he was willing to bet the sounds had been someone getting hit and slamming into a stone wall. Peter squinted through the darkness, trying to see the door. Was he in a cell?

“That omega,” growled the first voice, “had better be in one piece. We need the babe.”

Peter’s hand strayed to his stomach. The babe? They needed his _child_? For what?

Light approached the door and he saw the bars. He was definitely locked in somewhere. But where? Where was he?

The door opened and Peter’s eyes watered in the sudden glare of the light. There was a man, standing in perfect silhouette in the light of a torch held behind him. Peter automatically recoiled as he sniffed deeply, trying to identify what the intruder was.

He couldn't. It didn’t matter how deeply he inhaled. The intruder had no more scent than the enemy soldier he’d fought at the camp.

The camp. Memory flooded into Peter as he remembered arguing with that foreign priest, hearing the commotion, and getting attacked. Of the enemy’s last words before he was knocked out as the camp was overrun.

“You should feel grateful,” the man said as he stepped into the cell, making Peter scramble to his feet. “With this weather, this is one of the warmest rooms in the castle.”

Weather. He remembered the border, remembered seeing the wall of white as the blizzard on the other side raged without check, without question—and never crossing the border. “Why am I here?” he asked the man.

A second man came into the cell, bringing the torch with him and suddenly Peter’s surroundings were thrown into stark relief. There was no window. There was a slanted portion of the wall (for a privy, he assumed) the cell was lined with dark, hard stone that Peter didn’t recognize. The man in front of him was tall, thin, and looked hollow, almost like there was a fire burning him alive from the inside out. On his head was a thick, gaudy crown with fur at the bottom where it met skin.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” demanded the man. He looked Peter over—not as a prisoner, not as a person, but as an object he could use to get the most out of his desires. “Most omegas are.” The gaze stopped at his midsection and Peter curls his arms over it to protect it.

A woman steps around the two men to bring in a tray. On the tray is food and water. The woman turns to leave, but not before Peter sees the frightened look on her face. And she leaves no more of a scent in the room than the two men in front of him.

“Why am I here?” he demanded.

“My soldier _could_ have killed you. Almost did. We don’t take kindly to priests here. But then, he noticed something important.”

“And what’s that?” asked Peter warily.

“You’re pregnant.”

Peter stared. Clearly whatever was keeping the pheromones of his enemies at bay did nothing to hamper their sense of smell. The only reason Wade didn’t know was because, due to the torture, he’d lost most of his sense of smell. “And?” demanded Peter, irritated—frightened.

A smile crossed the face of the crowned man in front of him. “And it will be the first child born to our new empire,” said the man with satisfaction.

Peter stared at him as realization hit. These people—the ones who had turned their backs on their goddesses—couldn’t _breed_. There was no scent to show if they were alphas—because it was gone. The goddesses had revoked the first blessing they ever gave humans—the ability to breed. “You’ve all been turned into betas,” he whispered. He didn’t know if he was impressed—or horrified.

On the one side of the coin, he was glad that these people, these evil idiots, wouldn’t be able to breed. They wouldn't be able to perpetuate this farce into the far future—it would die with them. This war would not last more than a generation.

On the other was the realization that, without the blessing of the goddesses, humans would not be able to _reproduce_. The very act of continuing their species was dependent on a power that humans could not see. How? Had it always been this way? What else did humans do that were dependent on a blessing they never knew they had?

Peter was so absorbed in his thoughts, in the realization and everything it meant, that he didn’t have time to react when the crowned man backhanded him into the cell. “We are _alphas_ ,” the man snarled as spots bloomed in Peter’s vision. The two of them left and the door closed.

When Peter could move without pain again he dropped a hand to his stomach. “We’ll get out of here,” he promised the little life inside him. “And we’ll go home to _our_ alpha.” Using the wall as a crutch he managed to stand up. He glared at the heavy door. He _was_ going to escape.

He had to.


	46. Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade makes a bargain to save Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right; trigger warning people. There's a scene near the end of this chapter that you may find disturbing. Not going to go into details, but if you think (given previous content) you can't handle it, there's a summary at the bottom. Next chapter up as soon as I can.

The entity watched as the person chosen to be its host went into the cold territory claimed by the  humans who had tried to summon it. The large carrying creatures had been left behind some time ago. The entity watched as the human reached the castle. Like the chosen host, it could feel the tug, the lure of the mate inside. Like the chosen host, it too wanted to see the mate safe.

It did what it had not done in quite some time. It leaned into the chosen host’s mind and whispered.

_I can help you save him._

“No,” whispered the chosen host. Despite the chill temperature, the body broke into a sweat.

_I can. They would never deny entry to_ me _._

“No,” the firm whisper came again. The chosen host stared as the heavy gates were temporarily swung open to admit a small group into the fortress. The gates closed with a heavy thunk; and the walls were too covered in ice to allow climbing—not with the gear the chosen host had.

The entity knew this. It felt a vague, unpleasant emotion at the fact that its viewing of the chosen host and its mate had been interrupted like this. It almost knew what the emotion was.

_I can find him and get him out._

“No…” A flash of pain and fear rang through the bond and the chosen host gasped and hands clenched into the frozen ground around it.

The pain, the anxiety, were eating away at the entity, increasing the unpleasant emotion tenfold.

_Why won’t you let me help?_

“You’ll never leave,” whispered the chosen host. “I can’t—I can’t leave him.”

_Ah._

The chosen host made sense. In the past, when summoned, the entity took over its hosts and never released them. Then again, in the past, when the entity was summoned the hosts were broken, empty. There was nothing to return. The chosen host’s fear was grounded, understandable.

_I’ll release you. After getting your body and mate back to the spiders, I’ll release you._

It felt the chosen host mull over the promise and gasp as another wave of fear surged through the bond. “Yes,” whispered the chosen host.

That was all the entity needed. It surged forwards, wrapping its host in itself, isolating it from the elements while taking over the body and, temporarily, pushing the host’s consciousness back where the entity had been residing.  It stood up fearlessly and tested its muscles, making sure it knew how the host’s body was supposed to move. A few muscles tore, but quickly healed themselves revealing the physical limits of the body it had taken over.

Good. The body moved as it should, and was no longer chilled. Time to get the mate back.

The entity strode confidently towards the gate and stood in front of it. Wood set into stone. Wood was soft, easy to break. A single, hard punch shattered the door into splinters.

The bond was almost like a physical tie, a cord the entity could follow. Humans occasionally stood in its way, but it casually knocked them aside. They were between it and the mate. It had to rescue the mate; get the mate somewhere safe. It had promised.

It followed the tie down, down into the deeper, warmer levels of the castle. No, according to the host’s mind, it was a  _fortress_ . Built to withstand invasion. Withstand  _human_ invasion. Nothing like the entity had ever invaded before; there was no defense against it. Not yet.

Armed humans attempted to block its path and it sent tendrils of itself to push them aside. It could have stopped and dealt with them, made an example of them like it used to do—but the mate was not safe. The mate was not safe, and it had promised.

It strode up to a door, a thick wooden door in a wall of wooden doors. Like the door to the  _fortress_ it smashed the door, and looked in at the mate. The mate was against the back wall, blinking dazedly, unfocused. The mate was bruised, and the mate’s clothes were ripped and damaged. The entity felt a roar of wild rage—and pushed the rage down. This was not the time.

As it stepped into the small room,  _cell_ , the mate blinked. “Wade?” it asked, confusion pulsing through the bond. Fear spiked and the eyes opened wide as the mate pressed itself against the back wall. “You’re not Wade!” the mate accused, frightened.

The fear  _hurt_ , hurt like knives sinking in.  It bent so that its eye level was lower than the mate’s. It wasn’t certain why it did this, but it felt like the right thing to do. “Host is okay,” it crooned soothingly. “Host will be back. Came to get mate home, mate safe,” it added.

The mate stopped trembling, and fear stopped pushing through the bond. The fear wasn’t gone—but the fear wasn’t painful any more. The mate stepped forward and reached out a hand.

Carefully, worried the entity might make the fear spike again, it reached out and took the hand, gently. The mate partially collapsed and the entity could sense  _fear, worry, relief_ seeping through the bond as it caught the mate. “Come mate,” the entity said as it picked the mate up. “Not safe here.”

The mate laughed weakly. “No,” it said in a voice that shook. “It’s not safe here.”

The emotions didn’t surge, so the entity turned and began to leave the  _fortress_ . Its way was blocked by a human wearing an odd head garment—

_It’s a crown._

—a crown, staring down at the two of them. “I control you,” snarled the human.

“You did not summon me,” the entity clarified. It was not controlled by the human, by that human’s desires. It was shaped by its host. Its host wanted its mate safe, safe and warm. This was not that place. The entity pushed forwards, using its many tendrils to force the humans around it away. They would not stand between it and getting the mate to safety. 

The entity wasn’t certain how far it had walked before it became aware that the mate was shivering. There was no fear coming through the bond. Why was the mate shivering?

_He’s cold! Cold and hungry!_

Ah. The entity remembered hunger. All living things needed to eat. And shelter. It vaguely remembered that shelter was important as well.

The entity found a cave and gently laid the mate down. “Will return,” it assured the mate before walking back out into the snow. It had to find food. It could not get the mate home safe if the mate did not eat.

Shortly, it came to a village and saw a small human tending a pile of chopped wood. Meat. Humans needed meat, it recalled.

_You can’t kill that!_

The entity disagreed. The mate needed food. Meat was the best food of all, and here was meat in front of it. It could easily kill and prepare this meat.

_Peter won’t eat it!_

Then it would  _make_ the mate eat it. The mate needed to eat. Meat was the best food. This was meat.

_No meat is better than meat he won’t eat!_

The entity snarled silently in the darkness as the small human, unaware of its peril, grabbed several pieces of chopped wood and trotted back into its dwelling.

Very well. The entity would not kill the small human, or any human at all—but the mate still needed to eat. What would the mate eat?

Later it trotted back to the cave with edible plants ( _potatoes, onions, and cabbage_ ) and saw the mate had managed to make a fire. It remembered fire. It didn’t like fire very much. “Food,” the entity announced as it walked up to the mate.

The mate looked up, eyes slightly sunken in with bags under them, and smiled. “Thank you,” the mate said. There was a surge of  _warmth, affection_ through the bond, and the entity felt better as it handed the food, all the food to the mate. The mate handed some of the food back. “You need to eat too,” the mate told it firmly. 

Did it? The longer it was in this host’s body, the more it forgot the other times it had been summoned. It vaguely  _remembered_ eating—so the host was probably right; it needed to eat. It looked at the food it was holding. It wanted to eat meat—but going out for meat would mean leaving the mate alone. Something could happen, something bad. And it had to get the mate safe, safely home.

The mate was precious.

The mate shivered again. “Mate still cold,” it observed. It let its tendrils fall away from the body it was inhabiting. The mate hesitated—but came closer, leaning on the body. The entity allowed its tendrils to reform, over both its host body and the mate. “Mate still cold?” it asked.

There was a dry laugh and the entity frowned. Memory said the laugh should sound better. “No, Wa—no,” said the mate softly. “I’m not cold any more.”

The entity wrapped its host’s arms around the mate and gave a low rumble of pleasure. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade lets the entity take over his body in order save Peter on the condition that the entity gets Peter safely home--and that the entity releases Wade after the two of them are safe.


	47. Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entity gets Peter to the border.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was surprisingly difficult to write. Let me know if it didn't come out well.

Peter wasn’t sure what to make of the entity currently residing in his mate. The inky, slithering blackness covered Wade’s whole body, and it didn’t _sound_ like Wade, or _feel_ like Wade or even really _look_ like Wade. But he went along with the entity, because it had promised that when the two of them were safe it would give Wade back.

Every night the entity would find some kind of shelter; an old mine shaft, a cave, something; and then the entity would go out and bring back food. The food was almost always roots and vegetables. When Peter looked at it he could all too easily imagine a poor family starving because their food had been taken—and he tried not to think about it. He prayed, every night, that somehow the goddesses could help the poor people who had no control over what their leaders did.

He would have found it easier to bear, if Wade had been talking. Unable to take the silence anymore Peter began to talk. He started with tales and lessens used to teach the acolytes at the temple. First he goes over the creation of the world. “When humans first arrived,” Peter said, “they did not thrive.” According to the ambassador from Mysterio and Wade, humans had literally arrived in the world. “Their crops would not grow, they had trouble eating the food, and it seemed as though the very land was against them.”

The entity, surrounding Wade’s body with the inky blackness that was itself, leaned closer, listening to every word. The firelight in the mine shaft they were in made odd shapes, and suggestions of shapes in the entity. Peter was trying not to look too closely; he was trying to pretend that he was just giving a lesson, teaching someone new. He remembered doing the same thing for Wade, long ago.

“The goddesses saw the humans’ hard work, and looked upon them with favor. They granted the humans blessings—”

“ _What is a blessing_?” The entity’s voice hissed through Wade.

Peter thought about it. Before this mess, before he’d been to Ajax and seen their king, he would have answered that blessings were special powers and privileges given to humans by the goddesses. Now, after all he’d seen, his answer was different. “Blessings are given to us to help us survive,” Peter said softly.

There was an odd sound, almost like Spot’s chirr. “ _How do they help_?”

“Well,” said Peter slowly as he added some wood to the fire in front of him. He tried not to think about how he’d learned that omegas and alphas—the very fact that humans could _breed—_ were blessings. “One of my blessings,” Peter said, “is my ability to climb. I can climb anything a spider can.”

“ _So blessings are powers._ ”

That didn’t—sound quite right, but Peter wasn’t going to argue. “Some of them. I think,” he remembered the moment in the cell and pushed the thought away, “I think the weather is a blessing as well.”

“ _The weather_?” The entity turned Wade’s head to look at the mouth of the mine shaft they were in. Swirls of snow danced in the firelight.

“Not this weather,” Peter amended. “Our weather. The mild weather that we have at home.”

“ _The weather is a blessing_?”

“I think so. After all, in the kingdoms still protected by the goddesses, we have good weather. Also, the spiders.”

“ _The large mounts you ride_?”

Peter chuckled. The description was—accurate. “Yes, those too. I was talking to Wade about them, you know,” he continued. He felt a deep pain, a wish to actually be talking to _Wade_ , but pushed it down. “He said that the other countries have nothing like the rider spiders, or even most of the spiders that Arachne has.”

“ _Creatures can be a blessing_?”

“I think so.” The entity was silent for a long time, so Peter began talking about the lessons people were supposed to take from the legend. The entity listened, far better than any acolyte that Peter had taught.

A few nights later, the entity came back from getting food with a set of fur-lined clothes for Peter. Peter tried not to think of how the entity had gotten the clothes, or where they’d come from. He needed the warm clothes desperately, and he had no idea how far they were from the border. He felt warmer almost the instant he put them on.

The entity, covering Wade’s body, shifted nervously. “ _Mate warm_?” it asked in its distinctive, hissing voice.

“Yes,” agreed Peter. “I’m warm.”

“ _Mate happy_?”

Peter smiled. Something about the entity struck him as very lonely. “I’m happy to be warm,” he said. It was true.

The entity nodded once, firmly, and then took a seat near Peter as he cooked the food that the entity had brought with the clothes. “ _How did mate and host meet_?” it asked.

Peter smiled fondly at the memory. “King Philip and the king of Reaper had decided to see if MJ, King Phillip’s daughter, and Wade, the prince of Reaper, would connect.”

“ _You do not use the king of Reaper’s name_.”

“I do not particularly _like_ the king of Reaper,” Peter said with distaste. He took a deep breath. “I try not to dignify him with a name. What is your name?” Peter asked, looking at the entity.

“ _I have no name. Continue_.” A pause. “ _Please_.”

“Right,” said Peter nervously before he launched back into his story. “It was summer,” he recalled with a smile. The best things always happened to him in the summer. “I was with the group because MJ threw the mother of all tantrums when she was told she had to go alone, and no one wanted to listen to her scream any more. Harry, Commander Osborn’s son, went because Commander Osborn was going as an escort for the group. Also, I think he wanted Harry there to be a—a buffer between him and MJ. Commander Osborn did not handle children well.”

Done with the explanations, Peter launched into the scene. “The king of Reaper, his attendants, and Wade stood outside the drawbridge of the castle as Commander Osborn introduced MJ to the group. The rest of us,” he confided in the entity, “didn’t matter.” The entity gave a low growl. “Well, Harry was just a soldier’s son and I was just one of the temple children,” Peter explained. “MJ was a _princess_. She’s a queen now, but that’s way more important.”

“ _Nothing more important than mate_ ,” hissed the entity.

That was—really sweet, and sounded like something Wade would say. “An—anyway,” Peter said awkwardly, covering a blush, “Wade and MJ walked up to each other, and met each other on the drawbridge. MJ curtsied and said the empty phrase her mother taught her when Wade demanded to know what happened to her hair to make it _orange_. So, MJ pushed him down and stomped back to the group. Wade looked at us, and met my eyes and…”

There were no words to describe that odd feeling of _rightness_ , of _wholeness_. As if part of Peter had been missing and he’d never known it until he met Wade’s ice blue eyes. The way that, for a single moment, everything had been right with the world.

A feeling that had been shattered when MJ shrilly declared the mission a failure and that they were going to turn their spiders around and go home.

That night marked a turning point. After that a new part of the evening ritual was Peter telling a story. He’d start with one of the legends and lessons—but he’d end up telling childhood stories. Like the time he was told that his gift with spiders made him qualified for the temple, or when he met the beta couple in charge of the temple children for the first time. Betas Benjamin and May would, forever, be his aunt and uncle, along with the other children he’d been raised with. All the children at the temple received a blessing shortly after they arrived. After Peter presented as an omega, no one expected him to get more blessings—especially not Peter himself.

Maybe it was the conversation, maybe it was remembering all the good things to offset the situation they were in, but the rest of the journey seemed much faster, and warmer than what had preceded it. Soon enough they were crossing the border, shaking snow off their frozen bodies into the sultry autumn heat. Peter was suddenly enveloped in a very spider hug by Spot as the rider spider keened its loneliness. Behind Spot Peter could see, in the distance, the formation of an Arachnid army squad.

“ _Mate safe. Spiders here. Promise kept._ ”

Peter turned in Spot’s embrace to see—that the entity looked like it was melting? Long thin tendrils broke away and slowly, slowly dissipated into mist that vanished in the sunlight. Spot hissed and backed away at the display as the blackness evaporated leaving behind nothing but Wade. Wade, who swore colorfully and began to fall.

Peter caught him and momentarily sagged under his mate’s weight as someone, a voice he vaguely recognized as Harry, called his name.


	48. Mysterio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper, mysteriously connected with the entity, awakens and tells her mate what she has learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not near done yet. Too much left to resolve; I don't like leaving loose threads in my stories. Hope everyone enjoys. :)

Tony brought the fresh glass of water to the side of the bed and saw that, for the first time in days, Pepper was awake. Her emerald eyes blinked slowly in the light as Tony wrapped an arm around her and helped her sit up. “Here,” he whispered as he handed her the water. “You need to drink.”

“It is my assessment,” JARVIS, the ultimate creation between technology and magic, stated from his crystal, “that she also needs help visiting the necessary.”

Pepper grimaced and opened her mouth to speak, but a squeak emerged. “Okay, I got you,” Tony said gently as he helped her hobble to the indoor necessary. (Thank heavens they lived in the only country to still have indoor plumbing.) His poor mate hissed with pain as she relieved pressure in a bladder that hadn’t been relieved in far too long.

After he helped her back to the bed and drink the water. She needed liquids as well. “Are you all right?” he asked as he brushed hair out of her face.

She gave a shaky smile. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She leaned into his side and took several slow, deep breaths.

“What happened?”

“It was in our world.”

There was only one thing that she could be referring to. The entity. The darkness that had followed humanity to this new world. Tony’s mind reeled under the implications until he noticed something. “ ‘Was’?” he asked looking at Pepper. “It _was_ in our world?”

She nodded as she curled up on the bed without moving away from him. “It was. It no longer is,” she affirmed.

Tony gently stroked her hair. “Can you talk about it?” he asked softly. When she nodded he spoke up, “JARVIS, record this.” He didn’t want her to have to go through it more than once.

“Recording, Sir.”

“It was—it was invited,” Pepper said, sweat beading her forehead. Tony grabbed the small cloth by the bed and gently wiped the sweat away. “The alpha, the one chosen to be its host, invited it.”

“And then?” prompted Tony gently, holding her close.

“It was—here,” she said. “And—protective. Like it was trying to hold something precious.” She shook her head. “I know I’m not describing this well, but it was—” Pepper tensed and began to fidget.

Tony kept up his soothing touches. “It’s all right,” he told her gently. “You’ve given us more information than we had. What happened when it left?”

“It felt—satisfied.” Pepper sighed and relaxed partially into her mate’s side. “And also proud,” she added.

She would have collapsed if not for Tony’s hold. “Is that all?” he asked her. She nodded weakly. “JARVIS.”

“Sending the recording to King Steve’s crystal,” the artificial person stated.

Tony nodded. After Steve saw the information, he would want to hear from Tony about it—but Pepper had just woken up. It didn’t matter that the information was critical, it didn’t matter that they needed to discus what this new information meant. What mattered was Pepper, getting her back to something resembling functioning. Steve would just have to understand that.

And Steve did. He didn’t call for Tony, or ask for Tony to come to a meeting about the war and that entity, until that night. After Pepper had eaten, walked around a bit, and finally gone into a deep, natural sleep far different from the soulless sleep she had been trapped in when the entity was there, aware and in their world.

When Tony entered the conference room, a room with a circular table that had a huge crystal in it (for long distance meetings), Steve, his mate Bucky, Natasha, and Bruce were already at the table. The crystal in it glowed and showed Stephen, from his post in Arachne. “Thank you for coming,” Steve said meeting Tony’s eyes.

Tony heard what wasn’t said. Steve knew how hard it was to leave Pepper’s side, even though she was doing much better. Tony had sat next to the empty shell that had been his mate and wanted nothing more than to just sleep beside her, secure in the knowledge that, at least for now, she was right _there_ with him.

And Steve, his friend, understood all of that. He’d still use the information that Pepper had been able to get them, because he was the ruler of this country and he needed to use everything he had to keep the people in it as safe as possible. Even if what he had to use was Tony’s mate.

And Tony, his friend, understood all of that. “Have you heard the recording?” he asked taking his own seat.

“I think I know what happened,” Stephen said through the crystal. The cloak seemed blurred, but magic images didn’t always transfer well across crystals, no one knew why. “A few weeks ago, the High Priest of Arachne—a newly mated omega, by the way—left to help with some dispute with the refugee priests from Reaper. Tony, I know you weren’t here for that meeting, but the king of Reaper threw in his lot with the people from Ajax.”

Tony grimaced. “Short sighted fool,” he muttered.

The rest of them ignored the interruption and Stephen continued. “About a week after that, the High Priest’s mate burst into a meeting and pulled the Queen’s mate out to say that something had happened.”

“Wait.” Steve leaned forwards, eyes narrowed. “The High Priest—a newly mated omega—went to the border without his mate?”

Stephen grimaced through the crystal. “The High Priest’s mate is the man the Ajax were attempting to turn into a vessel.”

“ _It was invited.”_

Every grim face could picture what had happened. Somehow, the alpha, already chosen to be a host, had reached a point where all he could do was call for help—and the entity had come. The only question remaining was: why had it left? Pepper said it had felt satisfied—and proud. Had it introduced a time limit? What had happened?

“We need to know more.” Steve looked around the table. “We need to speak with the High Priest and his alpha.”

“They’re not just going to—”

“Use the crystal gate.”

Silence.

“With the gate,” Natasha said slowly, “they’d only have to travel for a matter of minutes.”

“The gate is the greatest secret!” protested Bruce.

“I think the time for secrets is long past,” Tony protested.

Steve turned to his mate. “Bucky?” he asked, bringing attention to the other’s silence.

Bucky tapped the table in front of him as he stared into space vacantly. “The High Priest of Arachne is an omega,” he stated.

“Yes,” said Stephen.

“His mate reached an impasse so great, so impossible, that the alpha called upon the entity for help.”

“That seems to be true, yes,” admitted Stephen.

Bucky nodded. “A newly mated omega, an insanely desperate alpha.” He looked around the table. “What if the omega is pregnant? What effect with the gate have on a developing fetus?”


	49. Refusal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambassador Stephen asks Queen Mary Jane for permission to send High Priest Parker and Acolyte Wade to Mysterio through the crystal gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be short, but I'm setting up for fluff. Only so much tension I can take.

“No,” Queen Mary Jane politely, but firmly, told the ambassador from Mysterio.

Ambassador Stephen frowned as his cloak whirled around him in its own wind. “Your Majesty,” he began slowly.

“Ambassador Stephen. High Priest Parker has only recently been rescued. According to the scout, he and his mate are both worse for wear. I may have no control over what the temple does,” she added viciously, “but when they return not one person from my court will disturb them—or that person’s head will decorate my castle’s walls.”

Ambassador Stephen barely kept himself from reeling in shock. He bowed. “I will abide by your wishes, Majesty,” he told her.

“You’d better.” Her emerald eyes swept the court as they narrowed. “ _All_ of you had better,” she added.

The court was dismissed shortly afterwards and as Stephen was heading towards his room, one of the maids stopped him. “Please don’t think too harshly of Her Majesty,” the woman said, wringing her hands in her gown, similar in shape and construction to what the acolytes of the temple wore.

Stephen sensed this was an important conversation. Common wisdom in Mysterio was that the help always knew—and it was best to be on their good side. “I would not,” he said gently. “I can see that she simply wants to protect the High Priest.”

The maid smiled slightly, still trembling and Ambassador Stephen realized that she looked an awful lot like her queen. “There is more to it than that,” the maid admitted. “You probably don’t know this, but when Acolyte Wade was—taken, things were done that damaged his sense of smell.”

He was confused. Exactly what could that mean? What purpose could mentioning that have?

The realization hit him in the head like a hammer. “His mate’s pregnant,” he said.

The maid nodded. “We knew, we all knew. But he—he couldn't smell it,” admitted the maid. “And when he had to go to the front lines—he told us not to tell.”

Which meant that the chances were the alpha hadn’t _known_ that his mate was pregnant. “And the High Priest—went anyway?” he asked aghast. There was a reason mates stayed close to each other during pregnancy—physical separation could  _hurt_ , hurt both of them. 

“Acolyte Wade,” the maid said softly, “was taken by Ajax, and Reaper had decided to ally with them. High Priest Parker didn’t want his mate anywhere near them, and asked Acolyte Wade to stay.”

T here was no way that the priest hadn’t known he was pregnant.  But for an omega to willingly separate from their alpha, especially when pregnant—was unheard of. The mere fact that the High Priest had  not only willingly separated, but  _stayed_ separated to do what had to be done—the High Priest must have had more fortitude than anyone else Stephen had met. 

It also meant that Acolyte Wade, his alpha, had reached an impasse so great he felt had no other recourse than to invite in the ancient entity  _without_ knowing his mate was pregnant.

“I will—keep that in mind,” Stephen told the young maid slowly. The young woman nodded and turned to leave. There was something odd, not quite subservient about the maid’s gait.

It wasn’t important. What  _was_ important was the new information; he had to get it to Mysterio as quickly as he could.


	50. Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade recover from their adventure and have a much needed talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was researching how baby spiders get out of their eggs and this happened. And you know what? Spiders hatch in egg sacks, so no one's entirely certain. And yes, newborn spidlings in the next chapter as I play fast and loose with arachnid biology to make the rider spiders work.

Peter and Wade didn’t remember much of the journey towards the Arachne castle. Both of them were exhausted, barely nourished, and weak. Most of the time they just—slept.

Most of the time. Wade had to get up and explain that Unicorn was not like other rider spiders and they couldn't carelessly get close to her. To Unicorn, he explained  that the young soldiers had plenty of experience grooming spiders and that he was as weak as a week-old kitten.

Peter also had to get up—to comfort Spot, who didn’t like Peter being out of his sight. Still, Peter and Wade were too weak to ride, and they were slowly recovering their strength. One night, as the group were camping, Peter and Wade woke up in the morning covered with a raw spider silk blanket and Unicorn standing over them, hissing into the woods. The soldiers escorting them home had broken camp quickly and gotten on the way, Spot meeting the group on the road.

Peter didn’t even have the energy to wonder what had happened.  They just got on the road again and headed towards the capital. He didn’t know how exhausted the two of them looked until Priest Octavius saw them and ordered—not asked, but ordered—the two of them to go sleep in a bed that wasn’t moving. Every time either of them woke up they  found a tray of food outside their door, brought it in, and ate. Sometimes, one of them put the full chamber pot outside the door, and it would return emptied.

Neither one of them knew how long they stayed like that. One day Wade let his hand drop to Peter’s abdomen, just beginning to bulge. “You’re pregnant,” he stated.

Peter simply relaxed into the touch. “Yes,” he admitted.

“I couldn't smell it.”

“I know.”

Wade cuddled closer, tucking his chin into Peter’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me,” he said softly.

Peter simply clutched the arm. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” Wade held his mate carefully, and Peter wondered what he was thinking. “Why?”

Peter rolled over to where he was facing his mate. “You,” he said bringing a hand up to cup Wade’s face, “were hurt  _so_ badly.” Peter’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath before looking into Wade’s clear, blue eyes again. “I didn’t know if—if you—”

Wade, as always, heard what wasn’t said and pulled Peter in closer. “Always,” he whispered harshly. “You hear me?  _Always_ . Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m  _always_ here.”

“But you weren’t,” Peter protested. “You weren’t here, and you got hurt.”

“So did you.” The two of them lay in the bed, silent, for a while.

A fter a little while Peter huffed a laugh. “We’re just going to get hurt, aren’t we?” he asked.

Wade ran a soothing hand down his back. “Probably,” he said with a lopsided grin. “We’re both stubborn, and we both end up in situations beyond our control.” He hummed slightly and Peter melted into the sound, just a little bit.

“This war isn’t going to help,” Peter said resigned.

“No. No, it’s not,” agreed Wade softly.

T he two of them were silent for another moment. “I think,” Peter said slowly, “this is a good thing.”

Wade buried his face into the crook of Peter’s neck and laughed. “Of course it is!” he said. He pulled back and Peter could see the love and affection in his gaze. “And baby makes three,” he whispered. He scooted down the bed and leaned his head against the slight bulge of the abdomen as Peter gently rubbed his fingers over Wade’s scarred scalp. Suddenly Wade sat up. “We’re going to have to teach the other children not to be jealous of their younger sibling,” he said firmly.

Peter just smiled.


	51. Hatching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unicorn and Spot's eggs hatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to be able to make milkshakes. They were even good milkshakes. Somewhere along the way I've lost the knack...

The door to the stable was crowded with people. Children, acolytes, even the Ambassador for Mysterio watched as, inside the stable, Spot and Unicorn crooned over the mound of eggs. Scratching could be heard from inside as the spidlings got ready to hatch.

“Hold on, coming through!” Wade announced as he gently shouldered his way through the crowd with his wheelbarrow. “Food for the baby spiders!”

“Spidlings,” Peter, inside the stall, absently corrected. “And—Wade.” Peter sighed and rubbed his head. “Wade, why did you bring bread?”

“All spiders love bread!”

“But they need _meat_.” Wade momentarily went pale, but Peter didn’t have time to dwell on it as one of the shells cracked and a thin leg poked out. 

“Would you _mind_?” demanded an irritable voice as a second wheelbarrow barged through the crowd to come in next to Wade’s. “Spidling food, on the way,” Myles said as he pushed the wheelbarrow into the stall.

Unicorn took a step back from the hatching eggs and snagged a piece of bread from Wade’s wheelbarrow before bringing it up to her mouth and going back to the eggs. She reached over and gently tapped on the cracked egg, removing loose bits of shell as a spidling fell forwards waving its legs in the air and keening before Spot picked up a bit of meat from Myles’s wheelbarrow and deposited it on the infan t while Unicorn used a foreleg to gently clean it and another to roll the empty shell away from the pile.

The first spidling born was a little pink one, a little smaller than Spot had been when he’d arrived at the temple, but it had Spot’s unique structure with one very distinct difference; this one had a horn on it.  After eating its meat it shook itself and toddled over to Wade, tripping on its thin legs. Wade bent down, caught the thing—and was enamored.

Peter smiled, seeing the expression on his mate’s face. He knew that it must be just like the first time  _he’d_ ever held a baby spider. There was nothing quite like holding the small, silken thing in two hands and watching as it rubbed against  against the flesh, seeking the warmth and comfort of a human touch.

W ade turned to his mate with the familiar panic. “Is it—am I hurting it? Is it a boy? A girl? How do you  _tell_ ?” he demanded.

Peter laughed. This was the most animated he’d seen Wade since the entity had left him. “It likes the feel of your warmth,” Peter said as he leaned down to look at his mate. “And it’s too young to tell what gender it is,” he sad as a scarred thumb ran gently over the back of the newborn, making it keen. Spot smacked Wade in the head with a piece of meat as another spidling began to hatch.

“What?” demanded Wade as the rider spider muttered and snagged another piece of meat for the new arrival. Unicorn reached over and grabbed a piece of bread before handing it to her mate who gratefully ate it as the next spidling fell out of its shell. 

The new spidling was striking in color. It’s body was a mottled mix of red and blue, in the colors of their goddess, and Peter smiled as it toddled over and climbed into his scooped hands. Peter gently nudged Wade with his elbow. “ Let’s get out of the way,” he said as he snagged a piece of meat from the wheelbarrow to feed to the spidling nestled trustingly in his hands. More eagerly descended on the stall as more spidlings were born. It was critical for a spidling to spend as much of its first few months of life with humans as possible—or they could get touch starved and die.

The Mysterio Ambassador followed the two of them. “I have never seen anything quite like this,” he said looking at the small crowd.

Wade grinned. “I know, right?” he said cheerfully. “Not even prized horses get this kind of attention when they’re born.”

“Might have something do with the fact that they always seem to be born in terrible weather,” commented the ambassador calmly.

“Ambassador Stephen,” a familiar, tart voice said. They turned to see Gwen with her polite, mess-with-me-and-I’ll-kill-you smile. “Her Majesty’s calling for you,” she told the ambassador.

“Better book it,” Wade said cheerfully with a gentle shoulder nudge. “Royalty is calling.”

“Then I suppose,” Ambassador Stephen said with a small smile, “that I must depart from your company.”

“And I suppose,” said Gwen with asperity, “that I must accompany you and make sure you arrive.” 

“Look at that,” Wade said fondly as the two of them walked away. “She’s following him like an angry puppy waiting to sink her teeth into his ankles or trip him down some steep stairs.”

“The more I hear about dogs,” Peter said as they went to their room, “the happier I am to have spiders.”

Wade chuckled and gently rubbed the back of the spidling in his arms. Peter felt an odd sense of dislocation. Most of the time, he was what Wade rubbed. It felt—odd, watching him lavish that attention on something else, even a spidling.

As Peter was sorting out his feelings Wade suddenly perked up. “I need to get more food!” he said firmly before gently depositing the spidling he’d been carrying on the bed before running off.

“Meat!” Peter called after him. “They need meat!” Peter turned and looked at the vulnerable little spidling in the center of the bed he shared with Wade. “I think,” he said as the thing burrowed into the covers, “that I’m beginning to see Wade’s point.”


	52. Entity 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entity ponders on what it learned from its host.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a little trouble with this chapter. Let me know what you think.

The entity had discovered something important. It used to be limited in what it could see of the human realm to the eyes of the human prepared to be its host. That was no longer true. Now it could see through the eyes of the chosen host’s mate as well.

The view was—entirely different. Through the mate’s vision it could see threads; gold threads, silver threads, purple threads, red threads, black threads, and even threads in all five colors. After some time watching through the new eyes the entity realized something—the threads were blessings.

The mate was right. Almost the entire world around the humans was full of blessings from the goddesses. Everything from the ability to breed to the weather.

Why? Why did the goddesses bless humans? Humans were not a natural part of this world; and they had been able to survive just fine in their own world—without blessings. Why not just send the humans back?

Still, as the entity watched, it learned how a blessing was made. It had the power. In theory it could _make_ a blessing of its own.

Who would want a blessing from the entity? The host wanted nothing to do with it, but that was understandable. After all, had the humans trying to summon it gotten their way, the host would no longer exist as anything more than a vessel for the entity. It was also protective of its mate.

The entity no longer felt the surge of emotions that had made it want to protect the mate. The fierce desire, warm acceptance, intense curiosity were gone. But—even though the emotions were gone, the entity _remembered_ them. It remembered everything.

It remembered the mate being happy to be fed and warm—especially warm. The mate did not like cold. It remembered the stories the mate told—stories about the goddesses and about the mate itself. Also stories about the chosen host. All of those stories had been—fascinating. Not once, any of the times it had been summoned, had a human just sat and talked like that before.

It could, if it wanted, make a blessing. It even saw a place a blessing could be used, a place that none of the five goddesses had blessed. The blessing would be useful, as blessings seemed to be.

Still. Humans venerated the goddesses. The only humans that had room for the entity were those it no longer wanted to associate with. It enjoyed watching through the eyes of the host and the host’s mate far too much.

Humans accepted blessings from their goddesses, because they believed and worshiped the goddesses. Humans did not believe in and worship the entity. Well, some humans believed in the entity, but none _worshiped_ it. Even the ones that wanted to summon the entity didn’t _worship_ it; they just wanted a power they could control.

The mate had accepted it. The mate had accepted food and warmth, and given knowledge in return. Perhaps giving knowledge was a form of worship. Yes. The entity could give the mate a blessing—if it wanted.

Did it want to?


	53. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and MJ have a conversation about Peter's feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Hope everyone enjoys! :)

After three days, Peter was forced to admit it—to himself. He wasn’t about to say it out loud, he couldn’t.  It was too embarrassing.

He was jealous of a spidling. Every time Wade picked it up, soothed its nerves, fed it by hand Peter wanted to scream and force space between the two of them and himself into the space. And it was made worse by the fact that Peter was doing the same thing with his own spidling  and Wade  _didn’t seem to care_ .

No. He was overreacting. He  _knew_ he was overreacting. He knew, better than anyone else at the temple, how important it was for a baby spider to feel loved and cherished, especially baby rider spiders. He could do nothing to interrupt that bonding process.  He  _would_ do nothing to interrupt that bonding process. No, all he could do was hide the jealousy.

He thought he was doing a good job, until MJ called him out on it.  She snuck into their room in the evening when Wade was out training soldiers while she was wearing her maid’s outfit again. When he hesitantly explained what was happening she just laughed. “Peter,” she said warmly, “the two of you  escaped from a life or death situation, you’re pregnant, and—before the two of you even mated—you had to rescue him.  _Of course_ you’re feeling a little needy and jealous. It’s  _normal_ .”

“It’s stupid,” Peter said with a scowl.

“It is,” agreed MJ. “It’s also normal.” She looked around the small room. “Actually, there might be something you _can_ do,” she said.

“What’s that?” asked Peter, eager for anything to help alleviate this all consuming irrational jealousy.

“Well,” drawled MJ, “a bigger room might be a good first step.” She pointedly looked at Peter’s abdomen. “You’re definitely going to need the room. Just how do you think you’ll raise a child in this room? It’s the same one you’ve had since you were an acolyte!”

Peter shifted uncomfortably as he gently pet the spidling in his arms. “Well…”

She sighed. “Peter,” she said seriously, “I know you don’t like change, and after everything that’s happened—you’re going to want it even less.” Peter nodded miserably. “But Peter—forcing yourself to change, even if it’s just the room you live in, will help you  realize that not all change is bad. Some of it is good.” She suddenly grinned at him. “Besides, it will be hard to get one of the benefits to having a mate if you have a little one at the foot of the bed.”

Peter felt his cheeks heat up. MJ had always known how far she could tease him. “You have a point,” he acknowledged trying  _not_ to think of late night—or afternoon—or early morning times with Wade. Times that were, as of late, interrupted by a spidling. “Oh, goddess,” he whispered as he dropped to the bed and the blood left his face as fast as it had heat up. “What am I going to do? What if I’m just as jealous of the baby as I am of the spidling?”

MJ gently sank onto the bed beside him. “Hey,” she said gently, “it will be all right. It will.”  She reached and rubbed his back. “Have you tried talking to Wade about this?” she asked gently.

“Ye—no,” admitted Peter, unable to continue the lie. “I don’t—I don’t want him to see the time he’s spending with the spidling as a _bad_ thing,” Peter continued. The spidling in his lap chirred softly and he smiled at it. “I think having him bond with a spider is a good thing. A great thing, since he’s living _here_. I’m just—”

“Hormonal and cranky and want to cuddle with the mate that seems to keep going away?” asked MJ with a raised eyebrow.

Peter chuckled wryly. “And speaking of mates that keep going away, how are you and Harry doing?”

MJ, brash and confident royalty, blushed and looked away. “Well…”

Peter’s heart ached for her. Since his father had died, Harry had to step in and take over the deceased alpha’s duties. With the duties that MJ had as queen, the two weren’t getting to spend as much time together as they wanted. Peter reached over and hugged his childhood friend. “Do you need me to declare a holiday?” he asked. “I’ll do it,” he added.

She reached up and tweaked his nose. “You shouldn't abuse the authority the goddess gave you,” she told him pertly.

Peter simply chuckled. “Bonded mates are sacred,” he reminded her. “I don’t think the goddess would mind if we had more holidays celebrating them.”

MJ sighed. “Maybe later,” she said. “Right now—right now Harry’s working hard so that he doesn’t have to feel, and I want him to be able to grieve.”

Peter nodded. He knew the feeling; he’d done much the same thing when Ben, one of the betas that raised him and several of the other temple children, had passed. “Just let me know when,” he told her.

“I will.”

The door to the room burst open and Myles stared at them with wide, unbelieving eyes. “You won’t  _believe_ what just happened!” he cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger. You know the drill by now; next chapter up ASAP--which might take a day or two, pending. :( RL sucks sometimes.


	54. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Harry are having a conversation when the training grounds are attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning! There is a battle scene in here, and it does get a little gory. And spiders (at least in this AU) are AWESOME!

“No,” Wade said with as much patience as he could. “Your posture is wrong.” He adjusted the young soldier’s body. “Like this. Hold that pose for a count of ten, relax, and then take it again. No more,” he said firmly as he took the spear away from the soldier, “weapon practice until you get this right.”

“But—”

“It’s important.” The flat, uncompromising tone silences the soldier and Wade wanders through the sparring partners before leaning against the wall next to Harry.

“It’s important?” asked Harry with a grin.

“Shut up,” grumbled Wade.

“What’s got your thread knotted?” asked Harry. “Or maybe, I should ask ‘who’? How _are_ things with Peter lately?”

“I don’t know,” grumbled Wade. His baby spider (no matter how many times Peter told him it was called a “spidling” he just couldn't bring himself to use such a silly name) wandered over and climbed up Wade’s trouser legs. When it reached his chest he curled an arm under it as he pet the surprisingly silky body.

One of Harry’s eyebrows raised itself. “You don’t know?” he asked. “How could you not? The two of you are mated.” When Wade glared at him again he smiled. “Ah,  _that’s_ how.  Well, tell me about it.”

“What?” asked Wade incredulously.

“Tell me about it. What makes you think the world of Harry-and-Peter isn’t perfect? Because, if the cause is something outside the temple, I have a feeling my mate will make sure it will disappear.” Harry shook his head. “It’s a good thing Peter’s an omega,” he said with a wry smile, “or I might get jealous.”

“You’re jealous anyway,” Wade teased as he pet the baby spider.

“And you’re avoiding.” Harry glanced at Wade out of the corner of his eye. “You know what Peter told me once? ‘Avoiding something proves you have an issue with it’.”

Wade could see Peter saying that very thing. He could also see that he was going to have to talk to Harry. He sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said irritably. “One minute we’ll be cuddling, talking, or—” Wade’s cheeks heated up and he abandoned the sentence. “We’ll intimate one moment, and then he’s chill and distant the next. Not chill like, I did something wrong or like he just had an epiphiny on how to solve a temple problem—just distant.”

“Huh.” Harry scratched the bridge of his nose as a distant buzzing sound hits their ears. “Maybe it’s hormones?” he asked.

“Sounds like a question,” said Wade dryly as the ground began to vibrate. “What the—?”

The sky suddenly darkened as the practice grounds swarmed with spiders. The ankle highs, knee highs, baby spiders and rider spiders are all on the grounds, all staring at the sky—all  _hissing_ . Wade looked up to see an undulating mass of blackness approaching them.

As it got closer he could see that the mass was birds. Most of them were birds a third the size of a human fist, wings beating so fast that they buzzed through the air. In the center of the mass was a larger bird, about torso sized, with glowing red eyes and long, lazy beats of its wings as the mass descended towards the grounds.

Soldiers yelled, several got bows and fired arrows as others ran to make sure the civilians were under cover and away from the danger. The birds simply dodged the arrows and aimed for the attackers—which was when the spiders moved. They jumped into the air, Spot going the highest and fastest, spreading silk behind them like banners that caught the birds that ran into it.

Seeing that the spiders had it mostly covered, the soldiers moved from attacking the oncoming birds, to trying not to get in the spiders’ way. Several didn’t move fast enough and got attacked as the birds picked and pecked at the flesh, thin, pointed beaks sinking in like pins through fabric, and there was screaming—

In the middle of the action, almost unnoticed by anyone, Wade’s little spider ran into the fray, jumped onto Spot’s back, and then, when Spot leaped into the air—leaped  _from_ the giant rider spider’s back to land on the chest of the largest bird of the flock, all of its weight behind a single leg. The leg pierced the heavy muscles of the bird’s chest, sinking deep into the heart to kill it—

—and all of the birds fell from the sky, dead. Everyone stopped to stare at the tiny birds falling like some kind of twisted rain as the spiders calmly left the field or went back to their posts on the field. The only one that didn’t was Wade’s baby spider, still standing on the bird it had killed, waving its bloody foreleg in the air as it hissed menacingly.

Wade calmly stepped forward, ignoring how the fallen bodies crushed and popped under his feet to solemnly observe the gloating baby rider spider. He turned to the staring soldiers. “And that,” he said with satisfaction, “is how you kill the enemy.” He looked at Harry and added, “And why posture is important.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Customer: You need medical attention!  
> Me: For what?  
> Customer: Your nose is bleeding!  
> Me:...  
> Me:You realize it's allergy season and I literally drove through a pollen cloud on the way to work, right?


	55. Award

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade's spidling gets a medal for its bravery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just can't seem to stay away from the Royal Plural. Well, at this point it's part of the character. I think? Let me know.

Queen Mary Jane looked out at her court. She carefully maintained the Royal Face as one of the soldiers put a small tray with dead birds on it in front of the throne for everyone to look at and told of the attack on the training grounds. His tone was almost reverential as he described how the spiders had saved everyone—especially the little spidling that Wade was rearing.

She’d already heard it all, of course, and her best maids had sewed out a tiny Web of Valor medal for the tiny arachnid hero, which she duly presented in front of the court. Most Web of Valor medals were worn on woven spider silk ribbons around the neck—which posed a slight problem for the spidling, as spiders didn’t  _have_ necks.  Still, the maids had fashioned a ribbon that would hold the medal—smaller than the ones humans got, of course—on the back of the spider’s abdomen.

She gave the speech, watched her court adore the spidling—it was so adorable the way it puffed up under the ribbon that even the Royal Face cracked as Queen Mary Jane smiled at the little arachnid. Her gaze shifted to look at Wade, who was raising the infant rider spider and was gazing at the amazing little thing fondly, and Peter, standing next to his mate and curled up in his side in a posture that was far too intimate for one of the priesthood—but their goddess had never  chosen an omega priest before, and the posture was just as intimate as a newly bonded pair should be.

The problem was that this was accelerating an issue that she knew she should have dealt with. She should have explained the situation between Peter and Wade better to the Mysterio ambassador—but hadn’t. Now, she didn’t have time to talk to him. At least she’d been able to brief Peter about what was going to have to happen.

She rapped the scepter once, twice, and silence fell on the court. “It has come Our attention,” she told them as her braids clacked together, “ that the combined armies of Ajax and Reaper are getting ready for battle.”

“Combined armies.” Ha. More like, “Ajax did what no one is surprised to hear they did and killed the king of Reaper, may he find no solace in the arms of the goddesses.”

Queen Mary Jane shoved her attention back to the court. “The Mysterio Ambassador has discussed with Us a plan for gathering more information.” She allowed the expected murmur to die out. “We do not approve of this plan, as it requires Our High Priest and his mate, Acolyte of all five goddesses, to journey to Mysterio.”

The Ambassador, despite not having been briefed about the situation and having to respond intuitively,  stepped forward in a move that looked rehearsed and his odd cloak swirled about him as though he were the only one in a breeze. “Majesty, we of the Mysterio Empire have a device known as the Crystal Gate which can allow someone to traverse the distance between two points almost instantaneously. I have received permission to use the Crystal Gate to both get the High Priest and his mate into Mysterio and to send them home again. If Your Majesty will allow.”

His speech was perfect. On the surface, she had no reason to deny him his request and every reason to comply. The only reasons she had to deny him were personal; she didn’t want to send her best friend and his mate into danger, or into a land where she held no power. Still, the attack on the training grounds had brought to her attention, very firmly, that  she had to put aside her personal preferences. No matter how much she wanted to lock her best friend and his mate in a box and protect them from all harm, she couldn't. And they all knew it.

“Very well,” she responded with no more, and no less warmth than she gave a petitioner. Her gaze flickered under malachite lined lids to the High Priest in question and his mate. Wade looked confused. Peter looked resigned. She was almost certain that they hadn’t spoken about Peter’s feelings yet. “High Priest Parker, Acolyte Wade,” she ordered, “a room will be prepared for you in the palace for the two of you to rest away from your religious duties while reconciling yourselves to your journey. You will be far from home. The people here will not be able to help you should anything go wrong. Talk,” she said making eye contact with her best friend, “to each other about what you will need.” She turned her attention to Priest Octavius, as the beta seemed to be the second in command at the temple. “We feel certain the acolytes and priests are more than capable of packing suitable travel cases for the High Priest and Acolyte Wade.”

Priest Octavius stepped forward and bowed deeply. “We are, Your Majesty,” he said firmly, with a slight smile.

Hmm. Queen Mary Jane had the feeling that it would be easier for them to pack without the interference of the two in question. Very well. 

She turned her attention to her court once again. “Do any have objections or need clarification about this course of action?” she demanded. Silence. The scepter pounded once, twice. “Dismissed.”


	56. Packing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambassador Stephen joins a conversation about spidlings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I said so, that's why.

“The spidlings will be going too,” Peter said adamantly.

Priest Octavius winced. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? There are no spiders in Mysterio. Maybe there’s a good reason.”

Ambassador Stephen frowned as he watched the men debate as Wade simply passed him some crispy strips of bread that the kitchen was experimenting with. The acolyte had two of the young rider spiders in his lap, one of them still wearing the medal awarded at the ceremony.  He declined and turned his attention to the two arguing priests. “Why is it important for the—the spidlings to go?”

“Silly name, isn’t it?” asked Wade conversationally. “I prefer ‘baby spider’ myself.” The baby spider in his lap threw up its two forelegs and Wade absently rubbed the creature around the ribbon.

Peter shot him a short glare with a wry smile and then turned to the ambassador. “Rider spiders have to have a human,” he told the alpha. “ If they don’t have one, their mental health can be—off. Wrong.”

“Feral,” supplied Wade.

Peter sighed. “That is one of the consequences, yes,” he admitted to the ambassador. “ If spiders don’t get enough touch and affection, they can go feral where they reject everything and become dangerous.”

“Unicorn’s not dangerous.”

“Unicorn is no longer feral.”

Stephen, ambassador from Mysterio, decided he didn’t need to know  what they were talking about. However, he did need to know if they really needed to take the baby spiders with them. He could only imagine the pandemonium if they walked through the Crystal Gate with spiders bigger than a person’s hand. “Could they be left with someone else?” he asked.

“No.” The tone was flat and uncompromising.

Priest Octavius was slightly more eloquent. “ Spidlings, especially rider spider spidlings, attach themselves to people. As they get older, they can change the person they attach themselves to, but these are too young to do that.” The older beta chuckled. “One of the first indications that we had that Peter was destined for the priesthood was seeing that six spidlings had attached themselves to him, and he was just a child.”

“Probably did a good job, too,” Wade commented with a smirk. Wade and Peter exchanged a look that Stephen was shocked to realize was similar to looks that Pepper and Tony would exchange with each other—and those two had been mated for almost three decades.

Stephen shoved the errant emotion aside as he looked at the priests and acolyte. “All right. I can call—er, contact the castle in Mysterio. What do baby spiders—spidlings need that we can provide?”

“See! Baby spider is much easier to say!”

“Not now Wade.”

The words were different, but the interaction was almost identical. Stephen had to force himself to listen to the balding beta priest. “—things to climb, combs for the excess silk,” Priest Octavius was saying.

“We should bring our own combs,” Wade interrupted. When the other two looked at him he grinned. “As someone who has been to _both_ Arachne and Mysterio,” he said with a gallant half bow, “I can say with absolute certainty that there is nothing in Mysterio that will function as a silk comb.”

“They’re light and won’t take up much room,” Peter added with a nod.

Earlier they had established that the two mates would be taking only what they could carry. Stephen was not about to even entertain the idea of what would happen if they rode spiders, or even a single spider, through the gate. He doubted anyone in Mysterio had ever seen a spider bigger than a small bronze coin—and those were considered  _large_ .

“Very well,” said Stephen. “Let me contact my—my supervisors and let them know what the spiders will need.” And also warn them about the spiders. He’d already mentioned that Arachnid spiders were huge—but there was a very big difference between knowing and seeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Baby spider or spidling? Which is easier?


	57. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter confides his jealousy to Wade, whose reaction is not what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot: I demand the story back!  
> Author: One more chapter! This conversation needs to happen!
> 
> And so, happen it does.

Wade looked around the room. It was at least twice the size of the one they shared in the temple, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it.  “Don’t get me wrong; love the room,” he said looking around at the lavish furnishings. Well, to the uninitiated they were lavish; the stuff the temple had was actually much better in quality, if a bit smaller. “Why do we have a room in the castle?” he asked.

Peter sighed and closed the door behind him. He was wearing his court robes and holding his red and blue baby spider in one arm. “MJ wants to force me to talk to you,” he said wearily.

What could Peter possibly need to talk about that their queen had to come up with a round about way of forcing them to talk to each other.  Wade gently deposited the baby spider  he was holding on a cushion next to the bed, one designed for spiders. “What do you need to talk about?” he asked gently. He could feel how anxious Peter was.

Peter shifted, stiff, nervous. “It’s stupid,” he said.

“Hey,” said Wade as he sat on the edge of the bed. “If it’s you, it’s never stupid.” He reached out, but Peter stayed near the door, not meeting his eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently.

“I—” Peter trailed off. He set his spider down and it climbed onto the cushion next to its sibling as Peter began to pace the room. Wade waited patiently. This was something that Peter was going to have to tell him in his own time, in his own way.

Peter took a deep breath, turned and faced Wade. “I wasn’t going to mention it,” he said irritably, “because it’s stupid and it’s petty and it’s not important.”

“If it bothers you,” Wade said, just as gently, “it’s important.”

Peter worried his lower lip between his teeth until Wade got up and gently made him stop. “It’s just—” Peter sighed and slumped against Wade in defeat. “Sometimes, when you’re holding your spidling—I get jealous,” he admitted shamefully.

Wade blinked. Of all the things, of all the possibilities,  _that_ had never occurred to him. “Jealous?” he asked.

Peter hugged himself with insecurity. “Ye—yeah.”

A huge grin split Wade’s face. “ _You’re_ jealous?” he asked.

Peter frowned. “You don’t have to rub it in,” he muttered. Wade jumped up, ran over, and picked Peter up swinging him around the room. “Whoa, what are you  _doing_ ?” demanded Peter in outraged shock.

Wade hugged his mate close. “My mate gets jealous,” he said happily.

“This is—not how I thought this would go,” Peter admitted with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Oh, Sweetie.” Wade gently set Peter down on the floor and cupped his face. “There’s no alpha alive,” he said solemnly, “who wouldn't be thrilled that their omega got jealous over them.” He pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead.

“But it’s petty!”

“Usually.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I believe it.”

“It’s stupid!”

“No.” Wade hugged Peter close and felt the omega trembling as he cried. “No, it’s not. You’re not used to having to share me, you don’t like having to share me, and _it’s okay_.”

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” complained Peter.

“I suggest cuddles,” Wade said, still grinning. “Lots and lots of cuddles. And sex.”

Peter snorted and lifted a much happier face to look at his mate. “Is that all you think about?” he teased gently.

“With you? Always.” Wade dropped his head and the two of them kissed. The kiss started out chaste and loving and quickly turned into something heated and searching. The two of them stopped when someone knocked on the door. “As soon as I kill everyone else in the castle,” Wade said.

Peter lightly smacked him. “Don’t even joke about that,” he advised.


	58. Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambassador Stephen sets up the Crystal Gate and they prepare to go through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter before work. Hope everyone enjoys.

The throne room was, oddly for the Queen being in it, almost empty. The only people in it were Queen Mary Jane, her mate the now General Osborn, High Priest Peter, Acolyte Wade, the two spidlings, and Ambassador Stephen.  They watched as Ambassador Stephen pulled out three fist sized stones that looked like marble, but were no color of marble that Peter had ever seen. One was black, one blue, and the third was red. 

Once the three stones were on the floor in a rough triangle, Stephen pulled out three crystals. All three of these were bright, white-yellow and glowing. One by one he tossed them into the center of the triangle he built on the floor. The crystals curved down and swooped back up again forming a  large circle in the air. When the third crystal hit the loop they spun faster and faster until the inside of the circle turned into a viscus yellow mass.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said Ambassador Strange, “the Crystal Gate.” He stepped away to allow the other people in the room to gawk at the thing.

Most of them were gawking, open mouthed, at this strange, never before seen thing in the middle of the sleek throne room. High Priest Parker was eyeing it with open calculation. “I think,” he said thoughtfully, “our bags might be too big to fit through there.”

Ambassador Stephen stared at the bags in question, easily large enough to dwarf the two humans carrying them. When he’d told them to pack what they could carry, he hadn’t known how  _much_ they could carry—and with no effort. Acolyte Wade had taken to training the soldiers with his bag on, and said training included running around the outside of the castle several times both before and after weapons practice. He hadn’t even  _had_ an idea of how strong High Priest Parker was until the younger man came into the room with a pack equally as large as Wade’s on his back, holding his baby spider, without even breathing hard.

“It might be a tight fit,” agreed Ambassador Stephen.

Queen Mary Jane smiled. On a lesser woman, he would have called it a smirk. “Go,” she said warmly, “and return quickly. I have a feeling,” she added, “that the worst is yet to come.”

“Maybe if we toss the packs in first,” High Priest Parker suggested.

Ambassador Stephen tried to imagine would would happen on the other side two huge, larger than human backs were tossed through before any of the humans. People would be confused. Tony might think its an attack. Tony would be embarrassed. “Sounds good to me,” he said.

“That’s an evil smile,” said Wade as he casually tossed his pack in. He turned to his mate. “Give it a good hurl, Petey.”

“That sounded so wrong,” High Priest Parker complained as he acquiesced to the request.

Ambassador Stephen blinked at the speed at which the bag traveled before it was absorbed by the gate. “Wow,” he murmured.

Queen Mary Jane had come up, unnoticed, behind him. “Yes,” she said simply. When he jumped she smiled. “Our High Priest,” she said simply, “is both much stronger and much weaker than he seems. We expect him back in one piece.” She stepped away, turned, and embraced the other omega. The two hugged for a moment before stepping back.

Ambassador Stephen bowed. “After you,” he said to the High Priest and Acolyte. The two linked hands, took a deep breath, and stepped into the Crystal Gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't get the song "The Worst is Yet to Come" out of my head writing this. Does it show?


	59. Gate 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and others wait for the High Priest of Arachne and his mate to cross the gate into Mysterio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this went up late. Had a long night at work, came home, slept thirteen hours. I hate truck nights.

“Incoming!” Bruce, Natasha, Tony, and Pepper dodged to either side as a huge bag came hurtling out of the gate with enough force to dent the stainless steel wall behind it.

“Is there a _war_ on the other side?” demanded Tony. Natasha just looks at the bag with narrowed eyes.

“They did get the notice, to only pack what they could carry?” asked Bruce nervously as he looked at the huge bag. Natasha wandered over and gave it a tug, raising an eyebrow when she couldn't move it.

Tony turned his attention back to the Crystal Gate. “ What is going  _on_ over there?” he demanded. The gate flickered again and they tensed as two people, dressed primitively in long robe tunics, stepped forwards. One of them; young, brunette, wide eyes; was unfamiliar. The other one, despite the scars marring his entire  body and being completely bald, was quite familiar. “ _You_ !” he snarled.

“Hey Shiny Dick,” said the bald man. “How’s it hanging?”

The younger one lightly smacked him. “Wade!” hissed the young omega.

The movement brought Tony’s attention to the huge spider cradled in the arms of both arrivals. “What the  _fuck_ ?” he demanded flattening himself against the steel wall behind him as he stared at the thing. The two spiders shifted to look at him. Tony had the odd feeling that he was being weighed and measured by their gazes.

Pepper strode foreword. “I am Pepper, adviser to King Steve,” she said calmly. “With me are advisers Bruce and Natasha.”

“Pepper, what—”

“And _that_ ,” Pepper said, clearly annoyed with a gesture towards Tony, “is my mate.”

The young brunette flashed a grin at her before schooling his expression. “I am Peter Parker, High Priest of Arachne and this is my mate, Wade Wilson, Acolyte of all five goddesses.” His free hand reached up to stroke the top of the spider in his arms. “These are spidlings that are currently in our care,” he said with fondness.

Tony had heard young women with small lap dogs use the same tone with their pets and he stared, askance at the spiders.

“Oh, it’s adorable!” cooed Pepper. Tony stared at his mate in shock, she was smiling gently at the monster in the High Priest’s arms. “Can I touch it?”

“Absolutely,” said the High Priest as he held the spider—spidling away from his chest. “They love affection,” he added warmly.

Tony stared in mild horror as, with no reservation at all, Pepper reached over and began  run fingers over the back of the thing. It leaned into the touch and waved its two forelegs in the air as it began to make an odd sound, similar to that of the  cats that hung around. Pepper pulled back. “Did I hurt it?” she asked anxiously.

The High Priest smiled. “Not at all.” He casually guided her hand over the spider’s back.

During the exchange the bald man, assassin, made his way over to Tony. “Shocking, isn’t it?” he asked with a grin. “Wait until you see an adult.”

Tony’s head whipped around so quickly he hurt his neck. “What?” he asked.

The grin widened. “Oh, yeah,” said the assassin. “This,” he said indicating the spider in his own arms, “is a baby.”

A baby. Tony stared at the eight legged monster in horror. “How big do they get?” he demanded.

“Well, this one’s father is a real monster. Fill this room up, _easy_ ,” said the alpha male. Tony would swear he was getting joy out of Tony’s distress.

“Wade!” The omega was suddenly there. He flashed a quick smile at Tony. “Spot’s considered a monster by Arachnid standards,” the young man admitted.

“Spot?” A monster, a monster big enough to fill the room, was called by such a cute name?

“Most rider spiders are about the size of a carriage,” the High Priest continued.

“A carriage,” Tony said flatly.

The bald assassin nudged Tony with an elbow while he wore a smirk. “That’s why they’re called ‘rider spiders’,” the alpha said with a huge grin. “They’re big enough to ride.”

Tony’s gaze fell on the horned pink spider the man was holding. It returned his gaze fearlessly as he tried to imagine it the size of a carriage. “The size of a carriage.”

“Not for a while yet,” the High Priest assured him. “After all, these two are only a few weeks old.”

“Few weeks old,” echoed Tony hollowly.

“They haven’t even had their first molt yet.”

The gate flared again depositing Stephen into the room, his living cloak whipping about his shoulders as he surveyed the scene with a small smile on his face. “Is something wrong?” the man asked with a smirk that said he knew very well what was wrong.

“High Priest Parker, Acolyte Wade,” Pepper said formally, “please follow me as I show you to your room.” The two men walked over to the respective bags. Tony watched with shock as, with a single hand and no effort, the young, thin omega picked up the huge bag that had dented the wall and slung it over a shoulder.

Stephen wandered over to Tony, still staring in shock. “Apparently,” the envoy said, “he’s been blessed with strength.”


	60. King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Steve sees Wade and Peter having lunch in the cafeteria, and goes over to speak with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot: Why aren't I moving?  
> Author: You are. Slowly.  
> Plot: This is why your stories are so long.  
> Author: I didn't hear anyone complaining.

Steve Rogers, officially king of Mysterio (as though anyone could actually _rule_ the entire country), met with the envoys from Arachne and their spiders in a non-formal setting. Actually, one of the reasons that Arachne was so isolated from the other countries was that they simply ignored most of the formalities that seemed to be so ingrained in the hierarchies of the other countries. He was also curious to meet the spiders that seemed to have upset his best friend and entranced the rest of their friends.

He wandered over to the table that the two of them (four, if the baby spiders were included) and looked at the two things with curiosity. One of them was pink and appeared to have a horned abnormality on its head and the other was red with blue stripes. Or blue with red stripes? It was difficult to tell—there was almost an equal amount of each color.

“You can touch,” Wade, the scarred man, told him. The two met, ice blue eyes to ice blue eyes—and recognized each other. The scarred man, now acolyte, grinned and saluted the king with a small loaf of bread. “And sit,” he offered. “They don’t bite.”

Steve’s gaze turned to the other man, a High Priest who had standards few of them understood, who simply smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” He sat in the seat next to them as the dull roar of the cafeteria washed over the group and held out his hand to the spiders. From his perspective, they were huge. From what he’d heard, they were tiny.

The pink one leaned close to Steve’s fingers, and it almost looked like it was sniffing him as the red and blue one ran two forelegs over the hand, before hooking it and setting it on the spider’s back. “He wants pet,” Wade translated. He took a bite of his food. “Before I forget. Petey, this is Steve, Steve, this is Peter.”

Steve held his other hand out to the young omega. “Pleasure,” he said warmly as the younger man tentatively shook the hand.

“Nice to meet you,” agreed the young man, amber eyes sincere. Peter took a forkful of potatoes from his plate and bite into it.

“By the way,” added Wade casually, “Steve here happens to be the king of Mysterio.” When the young man choked and glared he grinned and shrugged. “What? I thought you’d want to know.”

“Wade!” hissed the priest.

Steve just chuckled. The two of them together were very similar to Pepper and Tony. He could see Tony sitting on the bombshell just as Pep was eating as well. “It’s all right,” he told the young priest. “We’re not really that big on formalities here.” His first hand paused and the spider under it gave a squeal and wiggled its rear in a hint. The second spider launched itself into the air and grabbed his other hand, dragging it down to the table. Steve was startled at how light it was. And the way the feet felt against his skin was somehow both silky and spiky at the same time.

Wade simply nodded. “True. Aw, don’t be like that,” he begged of his mate. “It’s not like you don’t pal around with MJ.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Not while she’s the _queen_ Wade!”

Steve chuckled again. He liked these two. “Well,” he said, “I’m only King Steve in the throne room. The rest of the time I’m just plain old Steve.” He shrugged.

Wade snorted. “Don’t let him fool you,” he told his mate. “This ‘plain old Steve’ can lift almost as much as you can, and has more battle experience.”

Steve grimaced. “True. We recently had a little bit of a civil war here in Mysterio.” He turned his attention to Wade. “Thanks for not getting involved,” he said with sincerity. “I know how much they offered.”

Wade merely shrugged. “They didn’t hold my leash,” he said simply before taking another bite of his food. “Besides,” he added as he swallowed, “I didn’t like them much anyway. I _much_ prefer my ruler now.”

His mate flushed. “Wade!” hissed Peter.

Steve grinned as he listened to the two companionably bicker with one another. Being in their presence was relaxing, calming. He almost forgot why he’d come over. “Before I forget,” he said warmly to the two who were already starting to feel like friends of his, “I wanted to thank the both of you for coming.” He waited while Wade choked and his mate gave him a rough kick. “I know how dangerous it was for the two of you to come, especially in your condition, and I want both of you to know how much we all appreciate it.”

Silence spread at the small table and Steve found himself pinned by an amber gaze. “Dangerous how?” Peter asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watching Into the Spiderverse, typing, and eating. I love having a night off. :)


	61. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter rants at Ambassador Stephen for not telling the whole truth.

“Shouldn’t we intervene?” asked Bruce nervously as Peter, High Priest of Arachne, verbally raked Stephen, one of the greatest magicians in Mysterio, over coals.

Tony sighed. “Look,” he said wearily, “I like Stephen as much as the rest of you,” no, not really, “but he had a duty. So, maybe they’d have come anyway. _Probably_ would have come anyway,” he added. Meeting Peter had been a real eye opener—not only was the kid smart, but was fiercely loyal. “ But they still had the right to make an _informed_ decision.”

“Yes, but—this has been going on for hours,” protested Bruce.

Tony sighed and looked at Wade, who was holding both of the spiders as he watched the alpha ambassador bow before the sharp words of his mate. “Think you can stop this?” he asked.

A tiny muscle in his jaw, only indication of how upset _he_ was, twitched at the request. “I’m not sure I want to,” Wade said with a disarming smile.

Tony sighed and rubbed his face. He didn’t think Steve knew what he had started when he’d gone over, like always, to thank the newcomers for coming despite the risk. He probably thought—like the rest of them—that Stephen had _told_ them what they would be risking, not praying that nothing would happen.

“Stephen is the greatest magician in Mysterio,” Bruce said quietly.

“Hey!”

“Tony, when it comes to fusing leftover technology and magic, no one is better at it than you are. That being said, no one is better at using raw magic than Stephen is. We might need him in upcoming war.”

Wade sighed. “All right,” he said with a slight pout. He walked up to his mate, still scolding the magician. “Peter, I think the spidlings need carded.”

Peter dropped the lecture and turned to the baby spiders. “Poor things,” he crooned softly as he saw the webbing attached to their bottoms. He gently took them from Wade and walked out of the room he’d confronted Stephen in.

Stephen looked up at him warily. He knew, as the king and Tony knew, that of the two of them Wade was the more dangerous, the more unpredictable. “And how do _you_ feel about all this?” he asked.

Wade stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well, you see,” he said amiably, “I’m a results kind of guy. Peter’s fine, the baby’s fine, and we’re all okay. And,” he added with a grin and a reasonable tone of voice, “if any of that _changes_ because of the stunt you pulled, well, I know where you live.” Before anyone could register the threat he turned and, with a whistle, followed his mate.

“Did he just—did he just threaten to kill me?” asked Stephen, a little flabbergasted.

“I’m not sure that counts as a threat.”

“But—”

“I think it was more of a promise.”

Tony chuckled. “And just think,” he said as he turned, “You haven’t even heard from Pepper yet. Or Steve.”


	62. Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is teaching a beginer's class on magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magic works like this in this universe because I said it works like this. No other reason, sorry.

“Because magic is always going to want to flow where magic isn’t,” lectured Tony. He was teaching a group of students the basics of magic and technology. Well, a group of students plus the two from Arachne—and their spiders.

“Like heat rushing to replace cold air,” said Peter.

Tony paused. That was—actually a brilliant observation. One of the children twisted to face Peter. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever seen that moment,” Peter said slowly, “when it’s warm inside, but cold outside, and someone opens the door? What happens?”

“The heat rushes out,” said the child. Suddenly he brightened. “Oh! Like magic flows!” He turned back in his seat. “Now I get it,” he said, mostly to himself.

Tony shot the young High Priest a look. He was surprised by the insight—few people made that connection. “Unlike heat,” Tony continued, “magic can be manipulated.

“Heat can be manipulated as well,” protested Peter gently. “It can be moved with fans, and created with fire.”

Tony paused and looked at the young omega—the young  _adult_ omega again. His mate was sitting next to him, grinning his head off at Tony’s obvious bewilderment. Perhaps Tony should have listened to Pepper’s advice to teach Peter separately from the class. He’d never had a student catch on this quick before—and this was just the basics. 

“Once again, very true. Now, magic can’t be manipulated with with a fan, but it can be controlled with your own will. Two things are needed: the ability to sense the power and a strong will.”

A student raised her hand. “How do you know if you can sense power?” she asked.

“Good question. Most people can’t, and everyone senses something different. For example, I personally _taste_ power when I’m using it. The magician Stephen _feels_ his power, like standing in a strong wind, and my mate says that power has a smell like newly cut grass. What you sense will be unique to you, and you’ll just have to stumble along until you figure it out.” He shrugged. “It’s the only way we’ve found that actually works,” he added.

“The second thing is equally important; a strong will. You have to be able to _force_ the magic to move the way you want it to; it’s not going to want to do that on its own. _You_ have to make the magic conform to _your_ will, and your will is the only thing you have.”

“What if we never sense magic, if we’re not capable of it?” asked another child.

“That’s fine,” Tony told the child. “Not everyone cane. King Steve and his mate are both unable to sense the flow of power, and I don’t think there’s a person in this room stupid enough to think that makes them easy to defeat.” A loud bell chimed. “There you go, end of class. Good luck on sensing magic.” The children filed out of the room and he turned to Peter and his mate sitting in the back. “I think that was the most invested class I’ve ever taught,” Tony mused. “I’d like to take you to the workshop and see if you can get the hang of mixing magic and technology.”

“Ooo!” said the mate as the scarred man raised his hand. “I’d like to go too!”

The door opened and Pepper leaned in. “Have you seen—oh, there you are,” she said pinning the scarred man with a glance. “Come on, we need a statement from you,” she said beckoning to him. 

The spider in the man’s lap leaped down and raced over before leaping into Pepper’s arms where it seemed to melt in the attention as she pet it. Peter accepted a kiss from his mate before he left the room, following Pepper.

Tony clapped the High Priest on the shoulder. “You’ll love the lab,” he said with a grin.


	63. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is recounting his version of the events in which the entity took him over to Pepper, Bucky, and Bruce when Pepper asks a very important question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's the thing. The store I work at (the twenty-four hour store) I work at, is currently down to five people on roster, two of whom are juggling a second job. I have no idea when my next day off is (might be next week, might be next month) but I'm not going to be able to post a chapter a day for a while.

Pepper’s hand stopped moving as she stared at the scarred man in shock. “What?” she asked numbly. The spider in front of her didn’t like the fact that she’d stopped petting it and gave a needy little sound before pointedly wiggling its abdomen. She absently began stroking it again and it, not liking the absent  minded attention, grumbled as it wandered across the table to Wade.

Wade, not seeing what the big deal was, generously scratched the baby spider’s abdomen as he answered, “It said it could help.” He looked up into the shocked expressions of three people. He would have found it funny, if it hadn’t been for the subject matter. “What?” he asked.

They didn’t answer. Instead one of them, Bucky by name (and  _Terribleideatofightthisguy_ by reputation) leaned forwards. “You said it  _offered_ to help?” he asked.

Wade frowned, remembering. “Well,” he said, “no. It said it could help, and then demanded to know why I wouldn't let it.”

“It _what_?”

Pepper took over the interrogation. “Wade, you have to understand,” she said urgently, “that in the past, when this—entity has been summoned, it didn’t have a personality.  Every trait it was, was  _programmed_ into it by the people who summoned it. No sense of self, no sense of want—or a sense of demand.” She bit her lip. “This means—the entity is developing, or has developed a sense of self.”

“I’ve got to tell Steve!” Bucky got up and ran from the room.

Wade turned his attention back to Pepper. “Is this a good thing, or a bad thing?” he demanded.

Pepper shook her head helplessly, unable to answer. Bruce spoke up from his corner. “The entity,” he said, “seems to be protective of your mate. Is that a bad thing, or a good thing?”

The entity was powerful, more powerful than Wade himself was, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. “I can’t see how that would be anything other than a good thing.”

“There you are.” Bruce stood up and dabbed at his sweating face with a piece of cloth. “It’s a good thing.” He too left the room.

Wade turned his attention to Pepper. “You don’t seem convinced,” he said.

She sighed and folded her hands against the table. “The entity is interested in protecting Peter.”

“True.”

“You said it asked you, multiple times, to let it help.”

“Yes.”

“It bargained with you, for the right to help.”

“It did,” admitted Wade. He recognized the look on Pepper’s face, it was the same look that Peter tended to get when he was using Wade to sound something out so he could figure out the answer.

“So, the entity is _very_ interested in protecting Peter, to the point it will actively bargain with the human that has been specifically prepared to be its vessel on our world.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“What?”

Pepper sighed. “There are millions of people on this world. There are even other people who have the same blessings from the Goddess of Arachne that Peter has. Why Peter? Why does the entity think that  _Peter_ is special?”

Wade had no answer.

She nodded. “That,” she told him firmly, “is why I’m not convinced its interest in protecting Peter is a good thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a question for my lovely audience--do you think Flash should be killed in an attack on a battle camp, or join forces with the enemy for a bit? You decide! Like the last time I asked, I'll keep a record of the votes and you'll see what wins! ;) (Honestly, they have equal effect on the overall story and I'm not sure which direction would be better.)


	64. Entity 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Goddess of Wisdom meets with the entity in its realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stars I hate work. So! Finally a chapter up (feels like it took forever with my previous posting schedule) and I am *tired*. Please let me know what you think.

The entity had discovered something. It could watch from both sets of eyes at the same time; a good skill when the two it was watching separated. They way they interacted with the people around them was so different it couldn't help but be fascinated.

There was a change behind it and it turned to see one of the goddesses that the human worshiped. How had the goddess gotten into its realm? It didn’t know. Why had the goddess gotten into its realm? It had no idea.

The glowing, flowing hair of the goddess glowed in the space. _Purple_ , memory insisted. “Do you understand what we are?” the goddess asked.

The goddess was—speaking in its realm. It didn’t know that was possible. No one had ever spoken in its realm before; no one had ever _been_ in its realm before.

“This world was created. And then, we five were created to nurture and protect it.” Eyes that looked like cloudy sky watched the entity thoughtfully. “You are older than we are.”

It knew the goddess spoke the truth. The entity had always existed, in one form or another. In one personality or another, always dictated by those who summoned it. Always—until now.

“All five of us are ruled by our emotions. My sister, the goddess of Death and Balance is ruled by her compassionate heart. My sister, the goddess of Generosity is ruled by empathy. She empathizes—everything and wants to make sure that everything is provided for those under her protection, to make sure they never feel want or pain. And her heart breaks a little each time she is unable to do that.”

The entity listened. It had heard of the goddesses before, from the mate—but those words were nothing like these. If it had been human, or in human form, it would have leaned towards the goddess.

“My sister, the goddess of Healing is ruled by hope. The hope that things will be better if people are stronger, that the world will be better. Hope.” The goddess paused. “My sister, the goddess of the spiders, is ruled, oddly enough, by fear. She fears that things will go wrong, that those under her charge will be injured or destroyed, that their way of life will be threatened. It’s why she created the spiders. To protect. To clothe. To befriend and spark compassion.”

The entity figured out how “talking” worked. It spoke, and its words sounded strange, even to its own self. _**what about you?** _ It waited as the goddess turned to it. _**what are you ruled by?** _

The goddess smiled. “My sisters believe that I am ruled by pride. They believe I allowed the humans in my region to retain their technology, to allow them to mix it with the magic they have been provided as part of this world, because I want my kingdom to be the best.”

The goddess looked away and the entity could sense that she was looking outward, at the world. An odd smile, a soft smile, crossed her face. “They are wrong. I do not want my kingdom to be the best. No, I want something else entirely.”

_**what?** _

“I want to see what will happen.” She turned her attention back to the entity. “You see, I am ruled by curiosity.” She held out her hands and a small, glowing purple spark drifted between them. “So, I bring you a gift, a blessing.”

_**i am not human.** _

“No.” The goddess regarded it calmly. “You are—other. You are old, older than even our world. You are new, almost just born. You—intrigue me. What are you, entity? What will you become?”

The goddess shifted and was suddenly farther away from the entity. “You don’t have to accept the gift.” She smiled. “I just want to see what will happen.” She vanished, leaving the entity alone, once more, in its realm.

Surely there was no harm in accepting a blessing? Humans did it all the time. It reached out and touched the spark.

The world exploded and suddenly—suddenly the entity could see the world from many sets of eyes, and hear with many sets of ears what people were actually saying. It could learn so much more.

What _would_ it become?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	65. Lab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tries to help Tony get a pet project working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got it up! Yay! I feel like I've accomplished SOMETHING tonight!

“Have you tried making the magic an insulator?” asked Peter. The two of them were bent over the contraption that Tony had been trying to get to work for three weeks. When completed, it would be an autonomous mobile unit, perfect for the war they were about to find themselves in.

Tony looked at the unit that had been giving him trouble for weeks. “No,” he admitted. “It hadn’t occurred to me.”  He tasted the tin/metal of magic as he formed it around the problem area, hardening it to cover it.

He was slightly surprised that Peter’s mind followed along with the exercise. The priest frowned. “Isn’t that too hard? For insulation?” he asked.

“There are several types of insulation, and some of them are very hard indeed.” 

“I think a softer insulation might be a better—oh.” Peter suddenly yanked Tony down under the table as the part Tony was trying to insulate exploded above them.

“Did you just sense that explosion?” asked Tony.

Peter shrugged. “One of the Blessings from the goddess,” he told them.

The two of them stood up and looked at the charred mess on the table. “Softer insulation,” Tony commented wearily.

“I think the current bounced too hard off the hard insulation and just kept bouncing until it—exploded.” Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he studied the contraption with a look that Tony was all too familiar with—it was a look that Tony frequently wore. “I don’t know enough to know,” he complained.

“None of us do,” Tony admitted.

“What? You’re blowing things up without me? Peter, I’ll get jealous!”

Peter’s face brightened into pure joy. “Wade!” he cried as he rushed over to his mate.

Pepper sidled into the room around them and looked at the thing on the table. “Trying to get the flying suit to work again?” she asked as she reached out and gently rubbed the back of his neck.

He caught her hand and absently brought it to his mouth for a kiss, savoring the fact that she was still  _here_ , still with  _him_ for a moment before answering. “It must work. We have the old records; the ancients had machines like this—better than this—when they first arrived.”

Pepper kissed his cheek. “ They also failed to thrive until the goddesses intervened. Maybe we shouldn't try to be too much like them.”

Tony scowled at the table and barely noticed that Peter and Wade were holding themselves in an embrace that should have set off some alarms in his head. “I don’t want to be like them,” he complained to his mate. “I want to be better.”

“Peter!” Wade suddenly yelled. Tony looked over to see that Peter had partially collapsed into Wade’s grip, sweat dripping off of them.

“What’s going on?” Pepper ran around the table and Tony launched himself over it to reach the two.

Wade brushed a sweat-soaked strand of hair off his mate’s head with trembling fingers. “He’s burning up,” he said wearily.

“JARVIS!” ordered Tony.

“I have already contacted Master Bruce and his team will be waiting for you,” the artificial life said.

In the room they left behind, in the wreckage of the suit on the floor, a single piece flickered into glowing blue life.


	66. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and the others desperately try to bring Peter's fever down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! New chapter up! Sorry about the cliffhanger, hope you forgive me and enjoy the new one! :)

Bruce met them in the hall. “I’ve got an ice tub ready,” he told them.

“Ice?” asked Wade, concerned.

“We’ve got to get his temperature down,” Bruce said absently. He cursed fluently when he reached out and touched Peter’s skin.

“JARVIS,” Tony commanded, more grateful now than ever that he’d connected the artificial life to every building in the compound, “run scans on Peter; physical and magical.”

“Scanning now.”

“His fever’s still rising,” said Wade, worriedly.

“Here we are!” Bruce flung the door open so hard it popped off its hinges and the group ran in. Inside the room was a stainless steel tub full of ice and water. “Quick, get him in!” he urged.

Peter moaned and shivered. “He’s in pain,” cried Wade in a choked voice. He started to raise the omega out of the tub.

Bruce pushed him back down. “Not as much pain as he’ll be in if we can’t get his fever down!” the doctor replied tartly, desperately.

“Sir, vitals are fluctuating rapidly,” JARVIS reported.

“Kid, hang on!” growled Tony as he spooned the rapidly warming ice water over the boy.

“I’ll get more ice,” Bruce said as he turned.

“NO!” screamed Wade.

The room glowed as light began flow from Peter’s limp body. Tony stared helplessly at it. He knew what it was, of course, but he’d never thought—never even dreamed that  _this_ would happen. The light began separating, one thin tendril at a time as the fever grew, as the heartbeat began to stutter—

Blackness came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Thin tendrils of the darkness swirled around the thin tendrils of light, choking them off from view as it slowly forced the light back down. Slowly forced the light back into the limp body—and then slowly faded away.

“ _Blessing_ ,” a voice whispered into the room.

“Sir, the vitals are stabilizing!” announced JARVIS triumphantly.

“Pull him from the water!” ordered Bruce and Wade quickly obeyed as Bruce ran over with some towels. “Quick, dry him off,” Bruce said urgently as he grabbed one of the towels.

“I thought we needed to get his temperature down,” said Wade as he complied.

“It’s down! Down too much is just as bad as too high!”

“Don’t need to tell me!”

Pepper arrived with soft, woolen blankets that the two men used to swaddle Peter as he began to shiver. Bruce sat back with a sigh. “All right,” he said wearily. “Right now, the worst of the danger has passed. She stared at Peter with wide eyes as Bruce continued. “What he needs now, more than anything, is the presence of his mate. There’s a bed in the next room, skin to skin contact is best.” Wade nodded, picked Peter up, turned to leave—and stopped.

“Is this the side effect of the gate that we were warned about?” he asked in a cold, dangerous tone.

“No,” said Tony wearily. “If something was going to happen because of the gate, it would have happened _at_ the gate.” He saw the back of Wade’s head nod before the alpha left the room. “Did you see that?” he asked Bruce. “Because I saw that.”

“Yes.” Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I saw it as well.”

“I didn’t,” Pepper said. “What happened?”

“Peter was dying. His soul was leaving in the brilliance that only a pure soul has when it is called home by the goddesses,” Bruce said slowly, voice clinical as his hands shook so badly he dropped his glasses. “The entity—pulled him back. Stopped Death in her tracks.”

Tony felt a twinge through the bond and turned to see that Pepper had turned completely white as her face drained of blood. “What is it?” he demanded quickly.

She stared at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t,” she whispered. She cleared her throat and added in a slightly louder tone, “I didn’t sense it.”

“It said,” Bruce slowly recapped, “that it was a ‘blessing.’ A blessing for whom?” He looked up, still clearly shaken. “And a blessing for what?” he asked miserably.


	67. Entity 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Goddess of Reaper visits the entity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Sorry, life is hectic. I hate this time of year. :( It's so hard to have time to write. TT

The entity was startled by the appearance of the second goddess. It had been under the impression that the other goddesses did not like it. It watched, and waited for the goddess to speak.

The goddess, pitch black hair waving gently around her, watched the entity itself for a moment. “You saved the High Priest,” she said in a voice that held no emotion.

** it is not his time to die. **

The goddess nodded. “You are right. It is not. And you are not the one who placed  their lives in jeopardy.”

** i would not. **

“No.” The word was thoughtful. “There is another player in this game, and I am not amused. Both the High Priest and my Acolyte are under my protection. It is not time for them to die.” Her gaze drifted. “And yet,” she muttered, “one of them almost did.”

The entity watched. This goddess was nothing like the first one.  It had been told that this goddess was ruled by compassion—but she did not look compassionate. She looked angry, and emotion that it could understand. Every incarnation had felt anger, even the host.

“Do you know,” she asked, “what the new power is?”

The entity paused as it considered. Did it know? It wasn’t sure.  ** i am not the only one of my kind, just the one that followed. **

“That followed?” asked goddess, curiously. Another emotion the entity was familiar with.

** once, when humans were one world, there were many like me. When humans split, i followed. **

“I see,” the goddess said thoughtfully. “You bear my sister’s blessing,” the goddess said suddenly in a change of mood and subject.

** yes. **

The goddess smiled. “Here is another blessing,” she said as a small dot, blacker than anything the entity had ever seen before, floated before it. “And thank you, for saving them.” The goddess disappeared.

The entity looked at the dot for a moment. It knew, from what the mate had said, that blessings could be both a good thing and a bad one. The goddess offering the blessing was the goddess of death. Perhaps it was a trap—something meant to destroy it.

It didn’t know if it  _ could _ be destroyed. It didn’t know if it was truly alive. It supposed there was only one way to find out, and it reached out to accept the second blessing.


	68. Ajax 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ajax is attempting to force his growing empire to breed and an unexpected power makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely audience. Darling readers. Sweet, tender hearts. Once again I direct your attention to my trigger tags (you will notice I've added a few). This chapter is worth every single one of them. It is dark. It is oppressive. It would have been up sooner if I hadn't been wrestling with whether or not this chapter, as a whole, is necessary to the overall plot of the story and, I'm sorry, but it is. For those tender hearts not up to the chapter, skip to the summary at the bottom and I'll get another (hopefully much less dark) chapter up as soon as possible.

Francis watched eagerly as the omega, pregnant stomach bulging, was carried into the hall. He could see, from the way the abdomen twitched, that the omega was having contractions and the baby was about to be born. The first child born to the Ajax empire.

_ Long live your emperor _ , Francis thought as he watched the birth. The omega was crying, screaming,  _ pleading— _ and they ignored it. The omega wasn’t important. The child was.

Ajax would grow. Ajax would thrive. Ajax would destroy those who stood in its way, who still clung to the skirts of outdated goddesses. It was time, past time, for their reign to end.

The candles were covertly replaced by servants as the ever present blizzard winds howled around the castle. The omega’s cries were getting weaker, its body movements more sluggish. “Goddess!” cried the omega as tears ran down its face while another contraction made its body shudder.

Francis frowned. If the omega hadn’t been in such a delicate part of labor, if he wasn’t afraid of injuring the infant, he would have had its head for that comment. Calling on the goddess! On any of the goddesses! They could not help the omega now, and it  _ should _ be begging and pleading  _ Ajax _ !

And, after the birth, it would. He would see to that. But right now—right now the _infant_ , the _first_ infant was the priority. He watched with bated breath as the head crowned. As the body slipped into the hands of the midwife. Waited eagerly for the cry, the breath of new life.

It never came.

The court began murmur in panic as the omega smiled peacefully. “Thank you Goddess,” it whispered—before it, too, died.

“No!” growled Francis as he leaped up—too late. Too late to save either of them. The court was silent as they stared at the broken hope of a new empire. They could (would) conquer the world—but the world would end if they couldn't reproduce.

He growled low and was mortified at how it failed to resonate like a proper alpha growl. He still remembered that omega priest and his lips bared in a silent snarl as the sentence echoed through his head again.

“ _You’ve all been turned to betas.”_

He wanted to deny it—but it was true. Since the day the Ajax empire declared itself free of the shackles of the goddesses, not a single member of the country experienced either rut or heat. They were basic, primary,  _beta—_ and they were not breeding.

“ _ **Foolish humans.”**_

Francis whirled and stared at the center of the court where, in front of the deceased omega’s body, stood what looked like almost like a man. He was tall, thin, and almost abnormally white with eight jointed legs sticking out of his back. The man turned and looked at Francis who felt the blood drain from his own face at the twisted, countenance before him.

“ _ **You beg and plead for a way to survive this world, and then turn your back as you rage and whine and cry because it isn’t enough.”**_

Francis opened his mouth to speak—but nothing came out. A chill that had nothing to do with temperature began to fill the air between them. Mist began to rise—but nothing like the mists he’d known as a child. This mist felt foul, and sticky as it stained all that it touched. He tried not to breathe it in, but that was a futile as the omega begging him for mercy.

“ _ **You take one of my children, attempt to corrupt it, and even fail at that. My child is now enthralled by your enemies and accepting boons of the goddesses.”**_

He could not allow this—this  _ thing _ , whatever it was, to threaten his court. They were  _ his _ people. He was the king of Ajax! No, he  _ was _ Ajax! He pulled his sword and lunged—only to be caught up in some kind of invisible grip, unable to move.

“ _ **You think to attack me, human child?”**_

The man shaped thing came closer, long spindled legs clicking slightly against the floor. Pale eyes met king’s own and he stared deeply. Then, unbelievably, the thing began to chuckle.

“ _ **Human, you amuse me. This war—intrigues me. I will grant you a boon. You will return to your roots—and be able to breed. You tried to summon one of my children, to turn my child into a god. Very well. I will offer you another. Let us see what will happen, what will be.”**_

The chill and the mist suddenly vanished and, as one entity, the entire court (save for the two dead bodies) began to breath once more as Ajax was returned to the ground. Ajax raised his sword and his followers, the weak fools they were, flinched. “Let us prepare a new vessel!” he ordered. They cheered.

After all, there was only one person in all the lands controlled by Ajax that could be a proper vessel for another entity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Francis learns that it's impossible for the kingdom of Ajax to have a child born to it when a powerful visitor appeared and offered both the ability to breed and another entity to shape as a god.


	69. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entity has the entire room that Wade and Peter are resting in wrapped in impenetrable barrier made up of itself and it has a conversation with King Steve, who just wants to know that they're all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much less dark than my previous chapter and not as much fluff as I intended and if my headache wanes I might manage to throw another chapter up tonight. Enjoy. :)

Steve stared at the inky blackness that surrounded the door. According to Tony (well, JARVIS) the black stuff surrounded the entire room—going through walls and floor wrapping it in a perfect bubble. “Okay,” he said as the surface moved in an almost oily manner. “What am I looking at?”

Behind him Pepper sighed. “You remember the entity?” she asked. She gestured at the blackness. “That’s the entity.”

The entity was _here_ , physical, and Pepper was—

Steve turned to give Pepper a covert glance. Pepper was fine. Irritated (which was almost her normal state of being), but perfectly all right. “Okay,” Steve said thoughtfully as he addressed the blackness. “Why?” he asked.

He didn’t expect the entity to answer, and the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as something like a face, with eyes that were far too large and a mouth that was far too wide, appeared in the blackness. “ _Must protect_ ,” it hissed.

It had—responded. Steve blinked in surprise. It could talk. That meant, he could reason with it. “Why do you think they’re in danger?” he asked.

“ _Mate almost died. Host almost went insane. Safe now. Keep safe._ ” The face receded.

Steve ignored the murmuring behind him as the people, the smartest people he had ever known in his life, debated every possible nuance of meaning from what the entity had said. He would have time to learn what they believed was going on later. Now, now he had to make sure that the envoys from Arachne were all right. That meant he had to get into the room.

“Do you know what’s trying to kill him?” Steve asked.

“Uh, Steve, maybe, you know, _not_ engage the powerful entity in conversation until we learn more about it,” muttered Tony under his breath.

Steve ignored him. He knew, _knew_ he was making the right decision. The entity was sentient. The entity was here. The entity could talk. Therefore, he would talk right back to the entity.

“ _Don’t know_.”

There was a gathered hiss from the people behind him, but Steve stood his ground as the face protruded from the entity again. He’d stood his ground against people he’d thought were friends and allies. A hair-raising entity was nothing compared to that.

“Can you tell me how—how your host’s mate is doing?” asked Steve. The entity hissed and he explained, “We want them to be safe just as much as you do. Sometimes, when someone almost dies, there are side effects that could finish killing them. We just want to make sure he’s not suffering from any of them.”

“Nice, _technical_ explanation,” muttered Tony.

Once again, Steve ignored him. There would be time to explain why he didn’t appreciate having his decisions mocked, and it would be Tony’s turn to ignore him.

“ _Don’t know. Tired, needs cuddles, almost awake._ ”

That sounded—normal, as far as Steve could tell. “That’s good,” he said. “Tony here has a created an—an entity that can scan people to see if they’re still healthy. Will you let JARVIS through, so he can do regular checks?”

“ _Entity name JARVIS_?”

Odd thing to focus on. “Yes, the entity’s name is JARVIS,” agreed Steve.

The face looked around the room and JARVIS spoke up, “I will be happy to provide you with copies of the scans, so you can check their health yourself.”

Steve watched as the entity looked around the room again. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“ _Have no name. Not yet. Maybe later. JARVIS scan. No entry._ ” The face receded.

“JARVIS?” called Tony.

“Scan completed. I will record and save the scan for later retrieval.”

“Thank you JARVIS,” Steve said.

“Yes, thanks JARVIS,” said Tony absently. “Let’s talk about you engaging an ancient entity,” Tony said firmly.

“Yes,” said Steve just as firmly, knowing that the two men would soon be yelling at each other as they each tried to hammer his own point home, “let’s.”


	70. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up and he and Wade talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot plot related happens in this chapter. I hope its enjoyed anyway.

Peter whimpered slightly and snuggled closer to Wade. He tried not to breathe too hard, afraid to wake his mate. The two of them huddled under the blanket, and Peter shivered slightly again.

“ _Mate okay?”_

Now, now Wade could identify that voice. It was the entity, the one he’d loaned his body to so that Peter could be rescued. _I don’t know_ , he thought in frustration. _I won’t know until he wakes up_.

Wade gently wiped a sweat soaked strand of hair out of Peter’s face. He tried not to think of how likely it was that his mate _wouldn't_ wake up. No, of course he would wake up. He had to.

At least that annoying humming had stopped. When they’d first gotten into the room there had been a low, almost (keyword) inaudible hum. It had driven Wade almost to distraction.

With Peter unconscious like this, he could use a distraction. Sitting here, with nothing to do but watch his mate breathe and occasionally whimper, was torture. He wasn’t sure how long he could do stand it—but he couldn't leave, not until Peter woke up and was better. He was trapped.

“ _Host okay?”_

“I’m not sure,” whispered Wade, the first words he’d said out loud. Whether or not he was okay depended on whether or not _Peter_ was okay, and he didn’t know. Not yet.

Peter twitched slightly, and his eyes cracked open. “Hmm?” he asked, glassy eyed and seemingly not able to open his mouth yet.

“Hush,” Wade said. He carefully sat up, keeping Peter to his chest, as he reached over to the table and grabbed the glass of water sitting there before taking to Peter’s lips. “Drink,” he ordered gently.

Peter gulped the water as though it was the first liquid he’d seen in his life. Wade had to force him to drink more moderately, even though all he wanted was to give his mate anything he wanted, as much as he wanted. When the water was gone Wade put the glass back on the table. “What—what happened?” asked Peter, voice still sounding vague and harsh.

“I’m not sure,” Wade answered. He didn’t lie down again, simply scooted until he could lean against the headboard while still cradling Peter to him. Peter was more responsive, but there was still a—a fragility that was bothering him. “Pepper and I came to see you and Shiny Dick in the lab, and at first everything seemed fine—but then you collapsed and were running a high fever and we had to put you in ice water—didn’t want to, but you were burning up—and—”

Peter gently touched his lips to get him to stop talking. “It’s okay,” he said firmly. “I’m okay.”

“ _Mate okay?”_

Peter leaned into Wade’s chest and chuckled. “Yes,” he said warmly. The inky blob manifested at the foot of the bed and that irritating humming started again. Peter reached out a hand towards the blob. “I’m okay,” he assured the entity.

A single tendril reached out and gently brushed the palm of Peter’s hand. _“Good.”_ The entity vanished, much as it had come—without fanfare or warning of any kind.

“That is really freaky,” Wade commented calmly. Exhaustion was beginning to overtake him, now that he knew his mate was safe.

“It loves us,” murmured Peter softly as he tucked his head into the crook of Wade’s neck.

Wade didn’t want to think about that. He really wanted as little to do with the entity as possible—but he couldn’t deny that it had been useful. “What were the two of you working on?” Wade asked. “Maybe that way we can figure out what happened.”

Peter frowned as Wade gently stroked his hair. “Tony’s building some kind of flying device,” he said.

Wade frowned as he mulled that thought over. “Tony already _has_ a flying device,” he said as he remembered his last time in Mysterio. “A device that shoots,” he added remembering how close to killing him that weapon had actually come. There was nothing like in either Reaper or Arachne.

Peter gave a soft chuckle and nuzzled closer. “He wants another one. I’m tired.”

Wade smiled and gently kissed his mate’s forehead. “Then sleep,” he advised gently. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”


	71. Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash is working his new job when the camp he's working at is attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, because it really didn't want to be written (and the pain meds I took earlier are interfering with my ability to focus). Also--bit of gore in this, and cursing, because Flash is a bit angry. Kind of dark too, so summary at the bottom for those who need it.

Eugene, no, _Flash_ growled as his shovel bit into the dirt again. The guard behind him didn’t even twitch at the now familiar sound as he dug the latest trench in a series for mass graves. There were too many people dying on this battlefield, and even he knew it.

The blade of the shovel bit deep into the hard ground as he pretended it was the neck of that uppity omega _bitch_ on the throne. _“_ _Every living human is guaranteed a profession.”_ Condescending, self-righteous _bitch_.

At least Peter, the High Priest, hadn’t been there. Flash could almost see the fluffy hair, soft skin, and gentle expression of the High Priest. From the moment he’d first seen the omega, he’d known. The two of them would have to end up together one day. The gentle, caring way the young man had taught the children of the temple, the sweet adoration he lavished on that monster of a brute rider spider of his—

Flash didn’t pay much attention to the commotion at the camp until he saw the guards take note. For the first time, the guards assigned to him turned away. For the first time, they were distracted.

Well, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity escape. He whirled and smacked one on the head with his shovel as an attacker slipped up to them and gut the other guard. He nodded and leaned against the shovel as he took in the armed attacker. It was a small, agile fighter in leather armor with the sigil of the Ajax kingdom burned into the leather. “If you’re going for maximum damage and chaos,” Flash said with grim delight, “my recommendation is that you start with the red and blue tents—those are high command.”

“You’re not like the rest of them,” the soldier commented with narrowed eyes.

“You see this?” Flash demanded as he gestured to his clothes—undyed smocks given to prisoners. “This is not the uniform of someone who _conforms_ with these self-righteous, hypocritical bastards. And bitches,” added Flash. After all, most of his own problems stemmed from the queen bitch herself.

The soldier smiled. “You may be useful. Come with me.”

It could be a trap. It was almost certainly a trap. The soldier was going to kill Flash as soon as he could.

Why not? After all, like that bitch of a queen knew, this was worse than death for Flash. “All right,” said Flash with a grin as he threw the hated shovel away. “Lead the way,” he said to the soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war camp is attacked while Flash is digging a grave and the two guards keeping him to his task are murdered before the enemy soldier recruits him.


	72. Arachne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back at the Arachnian castle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bright side: good painkillers.  
> Down side: poor concentration and typing skills.
> 
> Another chapter! Yay! Hope you enjoy!

Queen Mary Jane absently rubbed her abdomen as she walked. She could feel the small bump of the baby there and could only wonder what kind of world it would be born in. What kind of life it would see.

The war was not going well.  The Ajax soldiers had learned well from their Reaper allies (if any of the Reaper were still alive), and were combating the spiders well. They were slipping into the war camps unnoticed, unseen, until they began to kill.  Caught by surprise, the losses were devastating. There were few survivors and the rapidly expanding Ajax was devouring Arachne.

The only good news to come out of this was that Ajax had stopped its raids of kidnapping pregnant omegas. Of course, she wasn’t sure if that really  _ was _ good news. Had the Ajax figured out how to breed?

She bit her lip and paused, looking out at the garden.  The moonlight gave the garden a cool, welcoming glow, the cobblestone paths beckoning in the darkness. Maybe—just a stroll?

No. It wasn’t safe to be outside. She knew that. She looked away from the view, biting the inside of her cheek. 

For years, decades, before Mary Jane herself was born, there had been rumors about Reaper. Rumors that, as the country who worshiped the goddess of Death, there were people who were trained in the art of killing, in the way to infiltrate another country in order to send someone into the goddess’s merciful embrace. Wade had once, in a joking way that said neither one way or the other, confirmed the rumors.

She knew it was true now. No less than seven of her couriers had been killed—in the dark, in the night, by people who killed themselves when they were caught. It was—terrifying. Her people had been protected by their alliance with Reaper—but that was no longer true.

“Hey,” Harry said by way of warning before wrapping her up in an embrace. “MJ, you’re freezing,” he said worriedly

She leaned into his touch. For now, for this moment, she felt safe; secure. She knew it was illusion, but she needed to feel it so very badly. “Hey,” she whispered as clutched the arms around her chest.

Someone else might have lectured her about putting herself in danger by roaming the halls. Harry simply tucked her head under his chin. “Bad night?” he asked gently.

Mary Jane, Queen of Arachne, nodded silently as she leaned into her mate’s embrace. “I keep thinking,” she said.

“Hmm,” said Harry, encouraging.

“About—about the war.”

He hugged her tighter. “We’re doing all that we can,” he said gently.

She nodded; she knew that they were doing everything they could to save their people—but it didn’t seem like it was enough. It felt as though they were losing, as they had almost lost.

“And Peter’s probably going to get us new allies,” Harry continued. “He’s good at that.” He chuckled. “Remember when we first met Wade and how you demanded to go home because the mission was a failure? Peter managed to talk you out of it.”

Mary Jane chuckled warmly, thinking of that summer the four of them had spent together. “I remember hauling the both of them up out of the well,” she replied.

“But they survived. And we’ll survive.” His hand strayed to over her baby bump. “We have a lot to survive for,” he added quietly. 


	73. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is explaining rider spiders to Bruce when the compound is attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get up. RL kicking my butt. Bleh. Hope everyone enjoys it though. :)

“Wait,” Bruce, the doctor, said with a frown as he studied the little spidling in Peter’s lap. After he’d recovered the two spidlings had refused to be parted from Peter and Wade. “They’re poisonous?” he asked looking at the things.

“Not all spiders are poisonous,” explained Peter as he kept petting the red and blue spidling as Bruce turned over a piece of molted shell in his hands. “But yes,” he agreed as the little spidling nudged his hand for better affection, “the two with us are. Their venom is very precious,” he added as the little spider rolled into the scratches along its molting body. Another couple of molts and the spider’s gender would be revealed.

“Precious,” echoed Bruce staring at the attention craving spidling.

It wasn’t a question, but Peter answered it anyway. “In small doses, the venom is used to treat heart troubles,” he said, gently lecturing. In many ways, it was like being at the temple again, teaching the newcomers (not all of whom were acolytes). In just as many, however, the place was alien. The smooth, cool surface the spidling was on was nothing like either the wood or stone of Arachne and Peter wasn’t entirely certain what to make of it. “In a slightly higher concentration, it can be used as an insect repellent and is very good for the skin when rubbed in.” The spidling in front of him crooned and held out a leg as Peter gently used his fingers to help the molting process along.

Bruce frowned and gently tapped the shell he was holding. “Not as a weapon? Or on weapons, against enemies?” he asked.

It was Peter’s turn to frown as he considered, small pieces of the spidling’s exoskeleton crumbling around his fingers as the spidling chirred happily. “There are stories,” he said softly, “of warriors who tipped their weapons in spider venom—but it’s not something we practice.” He shrugged. Not in hundreds of years, at least. He smiled as the spidling curled into his hand. “The thing about venom is that it’s used to protect.”

“Weapons can be used to protect,” said Tony as he entered the small room. The spidling jumped up and hissed and he looked at it with a frown. “Did I cause that?”

Peter’s mind was already racing back to the last time the spidling had acted like that. “We’re under attack!” he said leaping up.

“I don’t think—” Birds began to collide into the window and the spidling ran to the window, hissing loudly. “Birds?”

“They’re not ordinary birds,” Peter said firmly as he ran out of the room, expertly navigating the maze of halls until he reached the doors (made of some kind of clear material that wasn’t glass). Outside he could see people battling the odd, black birds as Wade tried to shout some kind of instruction and the pink form of Wade’s spidling dashed into battle taking down as many as it could while the one with Peter growled and tried to run foreword to help.

His heart stuttered as Wade was enveloped in a surge of the flying monstrosities. All he could feel through the bond was pain and fear and he screamed.

“ _I can help you save him.”_

Peter knew that voice. Trusted that voice. “Yes,” said Peter.

Blackness followed—but not unconsciousness. He was still watching, like a passenger in his own body as thick black tendrils forced the doors open and he shot into the mess with more tendrils killing the birds. The tendrils managed to drive the birds away from Wade, who was already healing from the first of his wounds.

“Kill the big one in the middle!” Wade shouted.

The entity surrounding Peter, controlling Peter, snarled in agreement and launched into the sky, towards a large bird hovering in the center of the flock. The others wheeled and moved—not this one. It stayed in place, keeping roughly to the same spot in the sky.

The analytical part of Peter wondered how this bird was controlling the rest of them. Was there some kind of telepathy? A pheromone? How?

The entity surrounding Peter simply killed it, and brought Peter’s body—safe, unharmed—back to the ground before dissipating back to—to wherever the entity lived. Peter gasped with shock as his body was suddenly bare to the elements again and it felt as though all of his senses were excessively acute.

Blessed darkness surrounded him as Wade draped a coat (something in their wardrobe they had gotten from the Mysterio) over his head, blocking out the sight and muffling the sounds. “I gotcha,” Wade said gently as he picked up his mate.

 


	74. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade are sent back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, little bit of entymology lesson here--not because its actually relevant to the plot, but because once upon a time I dreamed about being an entymologist and working third shift at a convenience store that's always seems to be short of people is nowhere near the same thing. :(

Wade watched the faces of the people in the room with a smile. Demanding to be sent home was Peter’s idea. Having Peter walk into the room that Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Pepper were in  carrying both of their travel bags (now even bulkier with the gifts they’d gotten from people in Mysterio) while Wade only carried the two spidlings was Wade’s idea. The looks on their faces was priceless.

“Hold on,” said Bruce slowly, “there’s a lot about the entity that we still don’t know.”

“We know,” said Peter with inescapable logic, “that the war is going on. We know that we’re all still being attacked. And as much as I’m enjoying the stay here, we _need_ to go back home.”

“Yes,” agreed Steve. His advisers looked at him and he met their gazes squarely before turning his attention back to the ambassador. “You now know,” he said slowly, “how our mix of magic and technology works. Soon we’ll have to take to the field to support Arachne against Ajax.” He paused and then met Peter’s eyes again. “I’m counting on you to take our abilities into count when making your strategy.”

Wade expected Peter to demur, to say that Harry was the one who made military strategies, but the omega simply nodded.  Tony sighed. “Kid,” he said solemnly, “it’s been a pleasure.” Tony looked at Wade. “You’ve been an ass.”

Wade nodded just as solemnly. “Of course,” he said simply as Pepper smacked her mate’s arm. The pink spidling in his arms jumped down, raced over to Pepper, and jumped in her arms before rubbing its head under her chin and running back to Wade.

Pepper smiled warmly. “Aw,” she cooed.

“Creepy,” said Tony staring at the baby spiders.

Bruce sighed. “Well,” he said as he stood up, “it’s simply not possible to open the Crystal Gate in this room. Please follow me.”

“How does he _do_ that?” whispered Tony as Peter adjusted the two giant bags slightly and followed Bruce.

Wade simply grinned at the man and followed his mate, the two baby spiders in his arms making content noises. He knew that one of the most surprising things about the spiders, to the uninitiated, was the noise. They were almost always making some kind of communicative noise. Wade loved it.

“I figured out why the venom is good about protecting from insects,” Bruce commented as the three of them traipsed through the halls. Well, Peter and Bruce were walking. Wade was partially dancing—he wanted to go home too, home to his and Peter’s rooms in the temple where the stone was thick enough that no one heard anything going on in the bedroom.

“Why?” asked Peter.

“Inside the insects is a molecule called hemocyanin, which allows the insects to exchange oxygen and carbon dioxide,” lectured Bruce.

Wade simply nodded. He didn’t know if Peter knew what the man was talking about, but he was clueless. The back of Peter’s head seemed interested.

“The way that the—the red blood cells do for humans?” asked Peter eagerly.

“Erythrocytes, yes,” said Bruce with a nod. “There’s a protein in the venom that breaks the bond of the hemocyanin molecule.”

“So, it suffocates the insects?” asked Peter curiously. Wade could only grin at the mix of _curious, happy, content_ from the bonding mark. Peter loved learning.

“It does. It also, for some reason that I haven’t been able to understand, stimulates collagen, which is why it’s good for skin as well.”

“What’s collagen?” asked Peter.

Wade let the rest of the conversation wash over him. He didn’t really need to know as he followed them to the room that the two of them (four, including the baby spiders) had arrived in. Still lecturing, Bruce set up the Crystal Gate and Peter calmly tossed the baggage through—and then looked at the gate with a dawning expression of horror.

“I’m sure everyone cleared out when the magic portal opened in the middle of the room,” Wade reassured his mate gently. The red and blue baby spider jumped from Wade’s shoulder to Peters and gently nibbled on his ear with its mandibles as it made a soothing croon.

“It’s done now, anyway,” muttered Peter. He shook himself all over. “Thank you, Bruce,” he said holding out his hand in the Mysterio custom as he met the man’s eyes. “I know it couldn't have been easy to teach someone like me.”

“Nonsense,” said Bruce breezily as he gently shook the omega’s hand. No matter how strong Peter proved himself to be, there was something in the biology of those from Mysterio that said omegas were to be treated gently. Wade, for the most part, agreed. “You’ve been a real pleasure. Especially after having to deal with entitled little brats who think they already know everything.”

“I don’t think Tony would appreciate you calling him that,” advised Wade.

Bruce merely chuckled and offered his hand to the alpha. “Take care, Wade,” the man said meeting his eyes fearlessly.

Wade bat his eyes flirtatiously. “Who, me?” he asked.

Peter gently nudged him. “Watch it,” he warned affectionately, “or I might get jealous.”

Wade crushed Peter in a hug, both baby spiders squeaking in indignation as they moved out of the way. “Perish the thought,” he murmured. Peter laughed and after a final goodbye, the two of them stepped through the gate and towards their home.


	75. Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Mary Jane is cornered in her throne room by an assassin when Peter and Wade return from Mysterio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my lovelies, there's a bit of gore in this chapter. Partly because it's expected (or should be) and partly because if I have one more person waltz into my store at three in the bloody morning demanding change for a hundred when I'm only allowed to keep thirty dollars (and no, that is NOT enough for a functioning register) and screaming about racial profiling when I say I don't have it I am going to bloody hurt someone. Fortunately, writing a fic with Wade in it means I have an outlet for all of this repressed aggression, and I hope it's not too bad. Thank you for your patience with me. Anyone needing a summary, it's available at the bottom.

Mary Jane, Queen of Arachne, ducked a blow that would have severed her head from her neck as she just barely managed to get behind her throne. The bronze sword slid across the bronze throne with a squeal. The assassin made no noise.

Her heart beat quickly in her chest. She had been trained to rule, trained to negotiate, trained to maintain a serene facade no matter the circumstances—but she had not been trained for battle. She was seeing how inadequate her training really was.

And  where were her guards, the ones who  _ were _ trained to fight? The ones that Harry had assigned to her before leaving for a training camp?  Had the assassin killed them too?

The assassin tried to push the throne out of the way—but it was far too heavy. It was built into the very foundation of the palace, after all. For the moment, the two of them were in stalemate. He couldn't get to her behind the throne and she couldn't leave. However, it could not last for long.

The air began to hum and her pulse, already quick, quickened enough to leave her feeling faint. She recognized that sound! The Crystal Gate was opening again! A vague memory of the huge, heavy bags the High Priest and Acolyte had taken with them crossed her mind and she cowered behind the throne for a very different reason as a heavy thud and a small whoosh of air told her that one of the bags had hit the assassin.

She didn’t peek around the throne, however. Just because the assassin had been hit by a bag didn’t mean he was incapacitated. She heard the hum increase again.

“Oh, man. What dragged you back into this shit?” demanded the rough, welcome voice of Wade.

“Watch out!” screamed Mary Jane in warning.

“Whoa!” She didn’t see what happened, but she heard a thud from her hiding spot. “Check on MJ, Petey,” said Wade.

T he distinctive red and blue spidling darted under the throne and climbed into her lap as Peter cautiously made his way around the room. “I wasn’t gone that long,” he complained lightly. “Did assassins become a new trend?”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Something like that,” she said wearily.

He sobered suddenly. “Where’s Harry?” he asked.

Both of them knew that she was far enough along in her pregnancy that, if anything happened to her mate, all of her resources would be diverted to the child she was carrying. “ Training. Took the new recruits out this morning.” Peter frowned and she knew what he was thinking—that someone had lured Harry away, that it was a trap. “It was a sudden decision,” she told him quietly, trying to ignore the wet sounds from the other side of the throne.

“Oh, man, there goes that hand. Hope you’re a lefty, or no more happy time for you,” quips Wade.

Peter sees her shake and reaches into the small niche behind the throne to touch her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said confidently. “Wade is the best.”

“It’s an _assassin_ Peter,” she whispered.

“So was he,” Peter said calmly. “Once.”

“All right!” called the alpha in question. “It’s safe to come out now!”

Peter held out a hand to her and Mary Jane took it, allowing him to pull her out of her hiding place as they stepped into the throne room proper. She stopped and stared, eyes wide at the blood. There were streaks of it all over the room.  Half of a hand was stuck to the ceiling, in the middle of the intricate mosaics. She did not ask how it got there. Or why it was still there.

“Former Ambassador Nathan,” said Peter in a cold, icy tone that Mary Jane had only ever heard from him twice. Her eyes dragged from the half of a hand on the ceiling and towards the figure that Wade was keeping pinned with a single foot. 

T he once tall, proud alpha is now a slowly dying body.  Despite bleeding out on the floor he managed a glare at Peter. “You,” he growled, “have no idea what you’ve done.”

Peter’s expression never changed. “You,” he responded slowly, with carefully pronounced words devoid of his usual expressions, “attempted to break into the temple—”

“He what?” asked Mary Jane staring at him in shock.

He ignored her. “—to kidnap one of the acolytes—”

Mary Jane looked at the man on the floor in confusion. Why would he try that? Acolytes were sacred and, at the time, Reaper had firmly worshiped all five goddesses.

“—and intended to set the stables on fire to cover you as you escaped,” Peter finished, still keeping his voice absolutely expressionless.

Wade, boot still keeping the assassin down, frowned. “I didn’t know about that last one,” he admitted.

“I didn’t tell you. I handled it.”

Looking at the expression on his face, Mary Jane wasn’t willing to ask  _ how _ . From the way that Wade didn’t ask either, she figured he was feeling the same way. Her attention returned to the assassin on the floor. If he’d gotten on the wrong side of Peter, if Peter had handled him with that icy demeanor—why would he risk being in Arachne again? Was it because he’d known, somehow, that Peter wasn’t there? But how?

“The prince needed to be returned to his home,” snarled the dying alpha on the floor. 

“Listen to me now,” said Wade, all humor gone from his voice. His voice was cold and hard, a tone that Mary Jane had _never_ heard from the man before and she stared at him in shock as, for the first time, she felt frightened by him. “I am _not_ a prince anymore. I am an acolyte. Father was paid, like the families of all _Arachnid_ families are paid, for my entering the priesthood. He. Has. No. Claim. On. Me.”

“And,” added Peter with a surprising (or, not so surprising given what Mary Jane knew of the king) viciousness, “he should be grateful that _I_ didn’t claim satisfaction.”

It took all of Mary Jane’s training to keep her from gasping. Priests were supposed to be above petty concerns of the general populace, and didn’t  demand satisfaction. They could be gone to, in order to make sure that the demands weren’t extreme (like a very memorable case she’d overheard where a woman’s chicken got eaten by a spider and she wanted to eat the spider). So, on the rare occasions where it was a  _ priest _ that demanded satisfaction—it wasn’t satisfaction for the  _ priest _ , it was satisfaction for  _ the temple _ . And if the  _ High Priest _ demanded satisfaction from Reaper’s  _ king— _ she was just glad he hadn’t.

Of course he hadn’t. Peter understood politics better than she did. He’d never do anything to threaten Arachne.

“He has certain duties that he has to perform.”

“Oh, I remember those ‘duties’,” snarled Wade. Mary Jane blinked in surprise at the raw emotion—a mix of anger, humiliation, and helplessness—on his face.

“The King of Reaper—”

“Is no more.” A new voice and Mary Jane turned to the new intruder. The hooded figure walked into the room casually and threw back the hood to reveal—the former ambassador Vanessa. She looked at the dying alpha on the floor with a narrowed glance, similar to the one Mary Jane used when her spider caught a particularly horrifying looking bug, before turning her attention to the Queen. She bowed. “The King of Reaper,” she said grimly, “has been taken by Ajax. They claimed they were going to turn him into a vessel for their new god.”

Peter and Wade exchanged a look. “Well,” said Wade, “this isn’t good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter arrive as an assassin is trying to kill Mary Jane, who hides herself behind her throne. Wade takes down the assassin without killing him and during the interrogation the former ambassador Vanessa arrives to inform them that Ajax has taken the King of Reaper to turn him into a vessel for their new god.


	76. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade reacts to news of his father's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my lovely, tender hearts. There is mention of past child abuse in this chapter (we all knew it was coming). It might be triggering. This chapter is mostly feels, so skip if need be.

Spot keened loudly and wrapped Peter in a full body spider hug. Not surprising. What  _ was _ surprising was that Unicorn did the same thing for Wade. After both rider spiders made sure their humans weren’t hurt, they checked on the spidlings.

Peter looked over at Wade, where his mate was uncharacteristically silent. “I’m listening,” he said softly.

Wade sat in the soft grass of the meadow as the wind, cooler now that autumn was drawing near,  blew around the two of them. “I hated my childhood,” he said. Peter, who already knew this, and knew that it wasn’t what was bothering his mate, said nothing.  The best thing, the only thing, was to let Wade work through whatever was going on in his head one piece at a time. “I hate Nate. Sometimes I think—” He bit the sentence off and curled a fist in his tunic as Peter sat next to him.

Peter leaned against his mate and gently uncurled the fist before fitting their hands together.  Then he waited as the birds called and the wind blew. He listened to the spiders muttering to each other while he waited for his mate to speak.

“Do you—do you remember the first time you saw one of Dad’s ‘training’ sessions?” Wade asked suddenly.

“I do,” Peter affirmed. He remembered the horror at how the man was treating his son, his only child.

Wade continued, as though he hadn’t heard Peter. Maybe he hadn’t. “There I was, getting my ass kicked for the billionth time as he beat me into the ground growling about how weak I was and you—you just ran up and put yourself between us.”  Wade gave a little chuckle. “There you were, half  _ my _ size, standing up to my giant of a father demanding he stop. And then he raised his hand back to hit you and you—you just looked him right in the eye and demanded to know if he was willing to risk angering the goddess by hitting one of the children of the temple.”

“Probably wouldn't have worked,” Peter interjected as he leaned against Wade, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. “But MJ was there and she mentioned that it would be very diplomatically unsound to hit a child of Arachne.”

Wade chuckled again and snaked an arm around Peter, pulling him closer. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Both of you were holy terrors. It was awesome.” Wade’s eyes opened and he stared out at the field. “I really hated that bastard,” he said softly.

“I know.”

“You—you were like a fucking angel Petey, like a divine protector sent from the goddess to keep me from getting hurt worse.”

Peter hadn’t known that. He curled up into Wade’s side and felt both of his mate’s arms curl around him. He wound his arms around Wade, marveling at how they only seemed to go halfway around the other man.

“I really hated that man,” Wade said.

Peter gently placed his face into the crook of Wade’s neck, where the scent glands were. “I know,” he said gently.

“I hated him—but!” Wade began to cry, softly sobbing.

“I know,” Peter assured him. “It’s all right Wade. Even though he was a miserable bastard who deserved to die, he was still your father.”

Wade buried his face into the crook of Peter’s neck while he cried, and Peter sat there and held him. Let him grieve. Let him cry. There was, underneath everything—all the beatings and insane training and so on, a hope, almost a plea that his father did indeed love him.

Peter would say nothing to crush that hope. And, perhaps, there was a tiny, hidden part of the man that  _ had  _ loved and cherished his son. Perhaps.

Suddenly Wade stopped mid sob and pushed Peter, just far enough away that they could see each other’s faces. “You have to promise me,” he said firmly, “promise me that you’ll protect yourself.”

“Wade—”

“No, _listen_.” Wade’s face was completely serious, and his voice was tinged with more than a little desperation as anxiety pulsed through the bond they shared. “You’re my hope Peter,” he said softly bringing a hand up to cup Peter’s face gently. “My only light, my sunshine. If anything happened to you, I’d—” His voice broke and he clung tightly to Peter again. “I don’t know what would happen,” he whispered to Peter.

“Wade,” Peter said softly, gently. “I can’t—I can’t promise I’ll always be safe. There are people I have to protect, and if it puts me in danger—I’ll do it.”

Wade clutched him a little tighter. “I know,” he said hoarsely.

“Is that why you convinced Vanessa to be MJ’s bodyguard?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Good thing they like each other, or it never would have worked.”

“Good thing,” said Peter with a chuckle in response.

Neither of them brought up the other part of what the news meant. With the king of Reaper gone, the throne was empty, ready to be filled. It was ready for the next in line to take it.

And there was only one Heir to Reaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Customer: Why is this stuff so expensive?  
> Me: This is a convenience store. We charge for the privilege of shopping here.  
> Customer: That's not good enough! I can get all this and a bag of chips for less than five dollars at Wal-Mart!  
> Me: Yes, Sir. Would you like directions?
> 
> What is it about two in the morning?


	77. Entity 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The golden goddess visits the entity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate work. Long hours, mandatory meetings in the middle of what is my night, all to tell us "good news" that would probably be just as well sent through e-mail. Bleh.

The golden haired goddess watched the entity. “I gave them everything, you know,” she said casually.

**the humans?** The entity was used to this by now, the goddesses dropping by, one at a time. She was only the third, but there was something—wild and unsettled about her expression, especially compared to her voice.

Her lips twitched. “Yes. The humans.” She gazed off into the distance. “When the first humans came they could breathe our air, eat from our land, and excrete into the woods. And, despite their technology, despite their power, that was all they could do. Humans were not made for this world.”

The entity waited while she paused. It had the sense that she was waiting, thinking about her next words. “I was going to let them die,” she continued. “My compassionate sister—stopped me. I watched as she blessed them, watched as they loved and hated her in equal measure—sometimes at the same time! I watched.”

Her gaze shifted back to the entity. “I watched as they  learned, explored and tried to grow. I saw them love and I thought—I want that love. I want them to love  _ me _ .”

**you gave them blessings?**

“I gave them everything. I gave them sweet water, rich food, streams full of fish. They loved pretty, golden things so I gave them flowers, gold, and gems. And they—they did not love me.”

The entity stirred. It knew the goddess was wrong.  **they did. they do.** It thought of what the mate had said about the people, about the stories the mate had told.

“Some did,” admitted the goddess. “Some do. They get punished for it now, and it hurts watching them defend me.”

The entity both did and didn’t understand. It didn’t understand—because how could simply watching something hurt? It did understand—because it felt the same way. When it saw how the host and the host’s mate were fighting, when they were in a situation the entity could easily fix—it hurt to watch. It spoke up.

**do you hate them?**

“No. And yes. They took everything I gave them and decided it wasn’t enough.” The goddess looked at the entity, thoughtfully. “Humans were the first to notice,” she said, “that we had chosen areas, specific regions of the world.” The eyes closed again. “The barriers are going to change.”

**is that a bad thing?** The entity remembered the mate talking about change, how it was necessary for life. Everything changed; the young grew old, trees grew into maturity, rider spiders mated and reproduced.

“No. And yes.” The goddess opened her eyes again and looked at the entity once more. “We cannot go to that world. We can grant blessings, we can create, but we are bound to our realm. We can visit _you_ , but your realm is similar to our own. We cannot walk the world, see the humans, feel the blessings we have bestowed.”

The goddess took another breath. “ _ We _ cannot right this wrong that has been committed.  _ You _ can. I bring you a blessing.” She left a small golden light in the air between them. “I pray that you are able to use it well,” she added softly before she vanished.

There was a moment of thought, of deliberation before the entity reached out and seized the blessing that the goddess had left behind. 


	78. Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry confronts Peter and Wade about the new alpha hanging around his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, the mystery bit kind of snuck in here. Any guesses as to the three names on the list?

“Peter. Wade,” said Harry as he draped an arm over each of them. “Who is this new alpha and why is she hanging around my mate?” Wade and Peter had been sitting on one of the benches outside the temple while Wade sewed and Peter wrote on a scroll.

Wade reacted to the words. “She’s Vanessa, former ambassador from Reaper and now MJ’s bodyguard after someone tried to skewer her the other night.”

Peter reacted to the pheromones. He scowled. “Damp it down Harry,” he ordered. “She doesn’t need any more stress.”

“Can you blame me?” demanded Harry. “I come back from the field to see another, unmated alpha all buddy-buddy with _my_ mate.”

“Well, you can just pull that stick out of your ass,” Wade said harshly, but keeping his voice down. The last thing either he or Peter wanted was to have rumors spreading about a brewing fight between the royal couple. He wasn’t sure that MJ even knew he was back yet.

“Listen,” Peter said firmly, “while you were gone MJ was attacked by an assassin.”

Wade had already mentioned that, but Harry seemed to actually hear it this time. “What? Where was I?”

“In the field, training the new recruits,” Peter said patiently.

“The assassin came in for the kill while all three of us were gone,” Wade supplied softly.

Harry was silent for a moment. “There’s a spy,” he said coldly.

“There is,” agreed Wade.

“I have three suspects,” Peter said as he showed his scroll, “but not enough information to either clear or condemn any of them.”

Harry scanned the list. His eyes narrowed. “Why these three?” he asked.

“One, all of them knew the habits of all of the nobles that have been assassinated.”

“What?”

Wade nodded grimly and gave the seam he was working on a light tug. The seam was solid. “There have been four noble assassinations,” he said grimly.

Harry frowned. “I know that,” he protested. “I was here for them. But—how do the two of you know? You weren’t here for _any—_ they started after the two of you went to Mysterio.”

“I’m a priest, Harry,” Peter said calmly. “Everyone talks to me.”

Wade began a new seam. “Especially the children. They go _everywhere_. You don’t want to know some of the things I’ve learned from Miles.”

“Miles,” echoed Harry. He sighed. “Would that be the little imp that keeps dressing up as a page?”

“How’d you know?”

“His manners are off. I’ve been watching to see if those talents will mature; he’d be a great spy.”

Wade laughed. “He _is_ a great spy,” he said cheerfully.

“Anyway,” Peter said dragging Harry’s attention back to his list, “these are the three who knew enough about the court to know patterns, are close enough to the individuals that were assassinated to have given information to lead to an easy attack. Most importantly of all, _none_ of these three were nearby when the attacks occurred.”

Harry frowned as he looked at the list. “Peter, this last one—”

Peter was calm as he said, “I know.” The two of them met gazes, one stoic and sad and the other slightly desperate.

Harry sighed. “MJ’s not going to like this,” he warned.

Wade snorted as his needle danced through the fabric. “You should have been here for the conversation about the bodyguard. She _really_ didn’t like that.”

“Right.” Harry stood and stared into space for a moment before shaking himself. “I’m off. I don’t care about the court right now; the two of us have _got_ to have a talk about this.”

“Just pick her up and carry off.”

“Wade!” Peter glared at his mate.

Who shrugged without remorse. “It worked for me,” he insisted.

Peter rolled his eyes and gently bumped his shoulder to Wade’s. “ _I_ am not being guarded by a tense alpha waiting to kill anyone who looks at me wrong.”

“Oh—that’s right. So, announce yourself as her mate first,” Wade advised.

Harry sighed and turned to stomp off without responding. “Let us know when you need us,” Peter advised his friend.

Wade held out the full body tunic he was making. It was almost done; just missing a single sleeve. “You think I could use some of that red dye?” he asked as he eyed it.

“Sure,” said Peter. There was plenty of red dye in the temple; it was one of the two colors of the goddess, after all. “What shade?”

“I’m thinking blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate my job.


	79. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets with Mary Jane for the first time after the attack.

Harry went pale as, in the privacy (well, the bodyguard was still there, but no one else was) of their room, Mary Jane gave him the grim details of being hunted through the palace until she took shelter in the niche behind the throne. He had known that something was wrong, of course—but he hadn’t been able to leave. Leaving the new recruits would have done more harm than good.

But Mary Jane, his _mate_ , had been in danger. “Oh, Honey,” he said holding her.

The Royal Mask cracked—then shattered as she clung to him and began to cry as the emotions she’d been suppressing attacked her all at once. He gently rubbed his hand over her back making vaguely soothing noises, letting her cry as needed while the bodyguard went to the door and kept lookout to make sure their time didn’t get interrupted.

After a while she managed to calm down a bit, the kohl that lined her eyes dribbling down her cheeks. “Come on,” he said as he gently led her to a seat. He got a small, clean cloth (linen; spider silk was many things, but it was _not_ very absorbent), dipped it into the washbasin, and then used it to gently clean the makeup off.

She sniffed. “I spent two hours getting this done,” she complained as he gently wiped her face.

“Then you can spend two more,” Harry said gently as he cleaned. “To me, it’s more important that your eyes and face don’t get irritated.”

She sniffed again, this time a little indignantly. “I wouldn't have to worry about getting my face irritated if I hadn’t lost control.”

Harry paused. He knew that she often mentally battled herself over what was and was not appropriate for a queen to display—and her mother hadn’t done any favors with her insistence that MJ learn to wear the “Royal Mask,” as the woman called it. He cradled her cheek with his palm. “MJ,” he said gently, softly, “You have endured massive mental strain. Your kingdom is at war with people who want to destroy us for nothing more than our belief in the goddesses. Your best friend has been going through emotion turmoils of his own, what with his promised mate being kidnapped and tortured before getting kidnapped _himself_ , you were almost killed by an assassin in _your own home_ , where you should feel the most safe. And you’re pregnant. It’s okay to let go, to cry.” He wiped at a little more of the makeup. “It’s okay,” he reassured her.

The two of them barely noticed as the bodyguard stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Mary Jane shook her head. “It’s _not_ okay,” she told him fiercely as he followed the movement to finish cleaning her face. “I _have_ to be an example, someone everyone can look up to.”

“You already are,” argued Harry. He set the (now dirty) cloth aside and grabbed both of her hands in his own. “You are one of the strongest, and cleverest people I know. People _see_ that, they see _you_.” He reached up to cup her face again, still holding her hand. “It’s okay,” he said again.

She pressed his hand to her face and opened her mouth to speak—when they were interrupted by a loud yell. Reacting quickly they ran to the door, flung it open—to see that the bodyguard had pinned one of the temple children to the wall. “Miles?” asked Mary Jane looking at the boy.

He managed a weak wave. “He—hey,” he stammered.

“What are you doing here?” asked Harry, confused. Wasn’t it time for dinner at the temple?

“He was _spying_ ,” said the bodyguard defensively.

“I—I wasn’t! Okay, I _was_ , but not for the reason you think.”

Harry pinned the child with a look. “Then why?” he asked.

“I—I,” his eyes darted around wildly and he swallowed before he continued. “I saw the list.”

“You saw the—” Harry remembered. Peter’s list of candidates for the spy in the court. “I see. I think we’ve got it covered,” he said with a gesture to the bodyguard who let Miles down, slowly.

“I—I just—we’re all worried, you know?” Miles hunched defensively as he shrugged.

“Thank you Miles,” said MJ with a smile.

Harry would never tell her, but he thought she looked better without makeup. With the makeup she was Queen, untouchable. Without it—she was softer and just Harry’s mate. He understood the purpose of the makeup, of course, it was the same reason she worked to maintain the Royal Mask. He just wanted her to understand that it wasn’t necessary between the two of them.

“Go home Miles,” Harry said firmly. “I just got back with my mate after a separation and we’re not leaving the bedroom for a while.” Then, taking Wade’s advice, he scooped Mary Jane up in his arms and turned away. She squeaked a little in protest.

“I’ll guard the door,” the bodyguard said as she gave Harry a saucy wink.

“Thank you,” said Harry as he carried his mate into the room and firmly closed the door with a foot.


	80. Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, Wade, Mary Jane, and Harry have a conference call with Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is--not where I intended to go with this chapter. Huh. I like it; it's staying. Hope you like it as well, please enjoy.

The room held only Harry, Wade, Peter, and Mary Jane. It was small, just barely large enough for all of them to sit in it with a space just big enough for a single (small) person on the floor between them. The walls were made of thick stone, and there were no windows. There were vents (they would have died else), but Peter assured the others that the patrolling spidlings were more than capable of keeping any eavesdroppers (mainly Miles, as he was the only one they knew that crawled around the air vents on a regular basis) away.

Peter put something odd in the space; it looked like an orange crystal with a shiny black base of some kind that had odd, white protrusions. “This,” Peter said as he fiddled with the protrusions, “is a communication device. It was given to us by Tony, one of—of King Steve’s advisers.”

“How does it—?”

Wade held up a scarred palm. “Don’t finish that sentence,” he advised. “It’s a long winded, insanely complicated explanation that only Peter understands and almost made my ears bleed when he spent the next six hours trying to explain it in a way I could understand.”

“It was only four,” muttered Peter as he sat back. The crystal bloomed into life—to reveal a startlingly clear image of a person.

Not just any person—Tony. “Peter,” he said warmly. “We found out why you almost died,” he added.

“Always good to know,” muttered Wade. He still hadn’t quite forgiven the alpha for how, after working in his lab, Peter had almost died.

Tony, as much as possible, ignored Wade. “Remember when we were trying to use magic as an insulation? Somehow that activated the core crystal—”

“The what?” asked Harry. Both he and MJ looked utterly confused as Wade looked resigned.

“—and it decided that, instead of trying to create an insulation barrier, you were trying to turn it into a seed and it tapped into your power—”

“It did _what_?” demanded Mary Jane. Peter felt certain that if there had been any more light in the room he would have been able to see the blood draining from her face.

“—and tried to rewrite itself based on your directives.”

Wade reached out and pulled Peter close to him, instincts demanding he keep the omega, his _mate_ , close and protected, as he glared at the crystal. “You put,” he began furiously, “a core crystal in a _suit_? And then let someone—who knows _nothing_ about them—tamper with magic around it?” His body trembled in a low growl.

Peter looked up at his mate and carefully reached up so that one of his arms was around Wade’s shoulder. It was an uncomfortable position to say the least, but he could see that Wade needed the support. Wade looked at him, gently moved the hand, kissed the palm, and pulled Peter into his lap. Peter turned back to the crystal. “What’s a core crystal?”

Tony sighed. “Most crystals,” he said in lecture mode, “are—for lack of a better term—empty. They have no powers, no elements, no imprints. Follow?”

“I do,” agreed Peter as he shifted slightly against Wade.

Wade wrapped both arms around Peter and continued to glare at the crystal. “Go on,” he growled.

“Core crystals are different. They have intelligence—but no personality. No directive, if you will. They are also oddly—eager, I guess would be the right term to use here—to _get_ a directive.” Tony sighed and scratched through his mustache absently.

“What directive does it think I gave it?” asked Peter with morbid curiosity. Sure the thing had almost killed him—but in an odd way he wanted to know. It almost felt like the thing was _part_ of him now, and he wanted to know what was going on with it.

“It seems to think you want a spider bot army,” Tony said.

There was a deep rumble in Wade’s chest, enough to be felt, but not heard. It grew until suddenly the man burst out laughing as the others stared at him.

“It’s not funny,” Tony insisted as Wade laughed harder.

“What makes you think its directive is to make a—a spider bot army?” asked Peter confused.

“It’s building bots in the shape of spiders,” Tony explained. “Not sure why—and I can’t catch it to stop it. And that’s not the worst part.”

“What is?”

“Pepper seems to have adopted three of them.”


	81. Conference 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conference continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, my summaries are awful.

It took a while to get Wade to stop whooping with laughter as Tony glared at them through the crystal, but finally they were able to get back down to business. “We’re going to have to launch a full frontal assault,” Harry said grimly.

“Not unless we’ve got more power than we do, or can lure the _entire_ Ajax army into the field,” argued Peter. There was something almost grounding, almost soothing, about the exchange—an Osborn saying what needed to be done and Peter pointing out what needed to happen _first_. For the first time, Peter felt a sharp pain of longing as he missed Norman.

Sensing the pain Wade dipped his head into the crook of Peter’s neck and sent back as much warmth and reassurance as he could through the bond, without speaking to interrupt the meeting any further. Peter could only hope that Harry was getting the same level of support from MJ. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without Wade’s support.

“We’ll send what we can,” Tony said, “but the kid’s right. You’re going to need them _all_ on the field—and even then it will be close. Morphio doesn’t have a lot in the way of fighters.”

“And Ajax has also integrated the Reaper Specialists,” Wade added suddenly. He sighed. “Much as I _love_ the thought of a straightforward fight—that’s not going to happen with them hanging around.”

“How strong are they?” asked MJ. Her face, devoid of makeup for the first time in years, looked at the alpha with all the gravity the situation deserved.

Wade sighed, still cupping Peter. “Depends on what you mean. Could I take any of them in a fight? Yeah, easily. Any five? A little harder, but still doable. Can one of your soldiers? Not a fucking chance.” He saw Harry’s twitch and sighed. “Sorry man,” he said, “but I’ve got to be blunt.”

Peter absently ran his hand over the strong arm holding him as he thought. “Wade,” he said suddenly, “unless I’m missing something, the specialists of Reaper have a very specific skill set—designed to get in for a target and then get out in one piece.”

“That’s right.”

“What are you thinking?” asked MJ as she eyed her friend.

“Those skills aren’t meant for a frontal assault,” Peter said firmly. “The best plan that Ajax could come up with is to use the attack as a distraction while the specialists come around behind us and cut through our army that way. We’d never see it coming until it was too late, and then all the main body of the army has to do is mop up what’s left of our army.”

The words, spoken calmly and with nostalgia from similar nights over a table with nothing more than a candle, a bottle of wine, and two glasses, dropped into silence as the others (except Wade) stared at him. MJ’s eyes are wide, Harry’s are narrowed suspiciously, and Tony looks impressed. “That’s a good point,” Tony says. Wade just increases the pressure in his arms slightly before relaxing a bit.

“Are you saying that there’s nothing we can do?” asked Harry.

Peter sighed. He remembered conversation with Norman about how Harry just wasn’t ready to take command yet, because he still allowed his emotions too much reign over his mind. It would appear that the old alpha hadn’t been quite wrong. “I’m saying,” Peter said firmly, “that we’ll need a better plan.”

“What if,” said Harry slowly and Peter could see the gears in his head turning, “the Mysterio army came in behind _them_? Through that magic thing that sent you and Wade to Mysterio and back again.”

“It is _not_ a ‘magic thing’,” protested Tony with a scowl.

“It’s not big enough,” Peter said. “It’s big enough for two, maybe three people if they’re small, to go through at a time. The specialists wouldn't take too long to figure out that the best way to stop the new threat is to destroy the gate, and the gates are pathetically easy to destroy.”

Tony’s image winces. “We’re working on that,” he says.

“Leaving the army in the same place,” Peter continued mercilessly, “destroyed.”

“Well,” demanded Harry irritably, “what do you suggest?”

“We need to get the specialists out of the equation,” Peter said.

“First,” added Wade firmly, “we need to find the spy.”

“Spy?” asked Tony.

“I—I can’t imagine any of the three people on your list being traitors,” MJ said as she bit her lip.

Peter sighed and leaned back against Wade’s comforting bulk. “I know,” he said gently.

“Who are your suspects?” asked Tony.

“Jamison. He’s a noble who led a minor revolt not that long ago,” Peter said.

MJ waved a hand dismissively. “He also knows that I still have divine right to rule,” she protested.

“Thompson. Another noble and Eu—Flash’s father,” Peter listed off.

MJ frowned. “He never should have allowed that to happen,” she said coldly.

“And thirdly, Kristine, MJ’s maid.”

MJ shuddered—but said nothing. She leaned against Harry who put an arm around her as she watched him.

The list was logical. Peter had made it after meticulously comparing notes and tracking whereabouts during the known assassinations and MJ’s own assassination attempt. That didn’t mean it would be any less heart wrenching for her.

“Well, you lot can take a page out of your spiders’ book,” Tony said.

“Oh?” asked Harry warily as he looked at the image in the crystal.

“Set a trap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--bets? Who do you think the spy is?


	82. Spider Bots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, in Mysterio...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Fluff. This should be funny fluffy goodness, no warnings needed (except for the arachnophobia tag because, yeah, this fic), so please feel free to enjoy. And comment. I love getting comments.

Tony logged off his conference call, set the crystal aside, and got up to go to his lab. Once outside the door he sighed and leaned his head against the wall. He could hear the scratching, clanking, and whirring from inside as the rogue machine with the core crystal built yet another spider bot. He couldn't catch the thing—it was faster than he was, could disappear through the _smallest_ of cracks that it shouldn't be able to fit through, and always managed to find its way back into one of the labs that had the materials it needed to build more spider bots. There were currently seventy-four of the things wandering around.

It wouldn't be so bad, he mused, if anyone could actually _control_ them. No, they seemed to act like the robotic equivalent of the baby spiders that Peter and Wade had brought with them; they liked cuddles and hugs, spun an insane load of silk (how? No one knew…), and didn’t take orders. According to Wade the baby spiders with him and Peter had taken orders—but only from Peter and only because of a blessing from the goddess.

Bruce walked by, steaming cup in hand as he took a sip of the scalding drink before saluting Tony with the mug. “Sounds like seventy-four is getting started,” he said amiably.

Of course _Bruce_ was sanguine about the whole thing. It wasn’t _his_ lab getting messed up. The only labs being hit were those focusing on bots and suits. “Sometimes,” Tony said without heat, “I really hate you.”

Bruce simply patted the alpha on the shoulder before continuing down the hall. Tony took a deep breath before opening the door to survey the damage. Parts are littered all over the floor, tables, and counters. There’s a sparking wire under the window. And, in the middle of the destruction, are two new spider bots. Tony notices a shadow slipping into the vent before he turns to examine the new bots again.

One of them is knee high. All eight legs have two joints (like all the other spider bots), the front two are shorter than the other six and appear to have _claws_ on the ends. The back is made of overlapping metal pieces, similar to scales. The power crystal, firmly in the body of it before the abdomen, glowed a deep, soothing blue that did nothing to actually soothe Tony as he looked at it.

The other one, by comparison, was roughly the size of a human hand. It was structured in a similar manner, except that the two front legs were smaller than the others and the two rear ones were disproportionately larger. It also, for some inexplicable reason, appeared to have been covered in pink glitter. They both turned, saw Tony (with sparkling jet black lenses for eyes), and raised their forelegs in what, he had come to learn, was a greeting.

Tony sighed and carefully picked his way through the mess to the two spider bots and held out a hand as they cautiously ran their legs over it, one tiny mechanical hand briefly gripping his thumb gently. “Okay,” he said wearily. “I give. Why did the rogue machine build the two of you?”

The little one leaped onto Tony and climbed up his arm to settle on his shoulder. It briefly rubbed against his ear in a motion he’d seen the little bots that Pepper had adopted use with her. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose again. Two mechanical spider hands tried to massage his shoulder—the one without a spider bot on it.

At least these were friendlier than the first twelve. Hostile little monsters—they’d been nearly impossible to kill. And the only reason number thirteen hadn’t been destroyed was because Pepper had protected it.

“I heard there were more?” said a curious voice as Pepper poked her head into the lab, ginger hair swaying freely. The spider bot on her shoulder caught the hair before it got caught on a low-hanging wire and pushed the wire away. It was slightly bigger than one currently on Tony’s shoulder.

“Two more,” sighed Tony as he gestured.

“Oh, how cute!” crooned Pepper. Both robot spiders with Tony turned towards her and appeared to lean into the positive attention.

“Cute,” echoed Tony as he stared dully at the bots. He’d have to take his mate’s word for it.

“Oh, look, this one has _glitter_!” Pepper reached up to the bot on Tony’s shoulder which rubbed against her hand—and stayed firmly put on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony’s eyes drift down to see that only one of the other two of Pepper’s adoptees (both bots that were easily knee high and one that was thigh high) was with her. “Where’s bot number three?” he asked.

Pepper rolled her eyes at his tone. “ _Justin_ ,” she said firmly, “decided to hang with Steve today.” She chuckled warmly, amusement lighting up her eyes. “He was walking by, stopped to greet me, and Justin latched onto his leg and wouldn't let go. Bucky almost killed it.”

“Right. You named them. Right.”

“Come on,” said Pepper wryly, “even Peter and Wade named their rider spiders. Peter said the only reason the others don’t have names is because they aren’t old enough yet.”

Tony sighed and leaned against the table as the robot spider there began to give him a much needed back massage that he resented enjoying. “I can’t keep all the names straight.”

“Tony. You memorized the entire periodic table, seventy-two unstable molecules, and the allergies of every single person working in the Tower,” Pepper said. “You can remember a few names. Try coming up with a couple yourself.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “I just wish I knew _why_ they were being built,” he said peevishly. He looked at the spider bot on his shoulder. “I don’t suppose you were built with the ability to talk, were you?” he asked wearily.

If he had been looking, he would have seen a blue light briefly flare in the vent.


	83. Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Wade set a trap for the spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still reading this?

The trap was set. Wade and Harry waited, silently for their prey like the seasoned predators that they were. More importantly, both Peter and MJ were somewhere else, _not_ likely to jump into the fray. At least Harry thought so. He was _mostly certain_ that the two of them were waiting somewhere safe to learn the identity of the spy. Oh, this was a riddle—and none of the answers were good ones.

First of all: Jamison. He alone held almost a third of the kingdom’s wealth. He came from a long lineage of noblemen, and was fiercely loyal—as long as he was certain that the ruler still had the divine right to rule. Given that it hadn’t been that long since Jamison’s last little “test,” Harry felt almost certain that, no matter what Peter’s list thought, Jamison couldn't be the spy.

Next: Nobleman Harrison Thompson, father of the disgraced Flash. His family had been top spider breeders—and he was chafing under the new restraints of MJ’s recently deputized “breeding inspectors,” a group of people whose sole purpose was to make sure that the atrocities that Flash had committed were never repeated. Harry didn’t really believe that Harrison was as clueless to Flash’s activities as he claimed. Harry could see the alpha betraying the kingdom in retribution for the disgrace of both his only heir and the shameful fact that he now had to submit to commoners checking on his breeding habits.

Last was Kristine, MJ’s own personal maid and body double. Harry really, really hoped it wasn’t her. From the moment that the omega entered the palace, as a member of the cleaning staff, MJ had pulled the young girl, just a year younger, into her household and into her heart. MJ adored that girl, and had been talking to Harry about all the possible ways to get her ennobled—without having to marry her off into an existing family, as was tradition.

The sound of footsteps jolted Harry. He listened to the cadence and almost jumped out to yell at MJ for endangering their attempts to protect her (and the kingdom too, of course)—but stopped. No, he thought blood running cold. No, it couldn't be. It wasn’t possible.

It was. Walking straight into the middle of the trap was none other than Kristine—wearing neither the open, amiable expression she normally wore, nor her version of the Royal Mask. She looked cold, collected, and dangerous.

Wade stepped out of his hiding spot with an impressed whistle. “Well, hello gorgeous,” he said.

She whirled, suddenly flaring defensive pheromones. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Harry stepped out of his hiding spot with a sigh. “I’d like to know the answer to that too,” he admitted. Kristine whirled to face him and opened her mouth—only for Harry to look past her to Wade. “The whole _point_ of this was to let the spy _walk_ into the trap—not confront her before she made it there,” he said in a lightly scolding tone.

Wade simply shrugged while wearing one of his characteristic smirks. “But Papa,” he whined, “I got _bored_.”

Harry winced. “May the goddesses protect me,” he said fervently, “from offspring like _you_.”

Wade winced, no doubt remembering his own pregnant mate. “Same here,” he said.

Kristine’s eyes darted between the two alphas as uncertainty overrode her scent. “What’s going on?” she asked warily.

Harry sighed. “We know you’ve been sending information to Ajax,” he told her.

She bristled. “I have not!” she insisted. “I’ve been sending it to Eugene!”

Wade looked confused and Harry realized that he probably hadn’t kept up with what was going on in the court—at least, that was his initial thought until the other alpha spoke. “You don’t think it’s treason to send information to an alpha who is currently with the enemy of _your home country_?” he demanded, sounding appalled.

Peter had once told Harry that he had a tendency to underestimate Wade. Harry now believed the other man about it. “Kristine,” asked Harry, “ _why_ were you sending information to Flash?”

She shot him a look of pure hatred that made him stumble. “ _Eugene_ ,” she snarled. She turned and advanced on him. “His name is _Eugene_ , and he was framed for all those horrible crimes!” she growled.

“Little help!” he demanded as he glanced at Wade.

Wade simply grinned. “I think you’ve got this.”

Harry growled and leaped forwards to grab Kristine by the shoulders. He gave the surprised omega a gentle shake. “He was _not_ framed!” he told the girl. “ _I_ was there! _I_ saw the—I saw everything!”

“It was his _father_ that did it!” snarled Kristine. Suddenly she went limp. “But no one believes me,” she whispered.

_Now_ Wade moved. “Stop!” he yelled as he ran across the floor towards them. “Harry, stop her!”

Before Harry could ask what he was supposed to  stop Kristine brought both hands to her mouth—and her body began to spasm as foam formed at the corners of her mouth and her eyes glazed over. Harry caught her body—now lifeless—as it collapsed.

“Damn it!” growled Wade as he reached them.

“Commander Harry! Acolyte Wade!” cried a frightened voice behind them. A wide-eyed Miles ran into the room. “We’re under attack!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNnnn!
> 
> So, did you guess right?


	84. Preparing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, with Peter and Mary Jane...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter--but I had to end it here.

“I should _be_ there!” protested MJ as she fret next to Peter. “A spy is a threat to _my_ kingdom!”

“Not the only threat,” Peter said.

T he calm statement penetrated the frustration like nothing else had and she turned to her friend. “What?” she asked.

Peter’s amber eyes met hers calmly. “Think about it,” he urged  softly. “Pretend you’re the enemy. You’re cleverly assassinating key members of the enemy side.”

“Clever!”

“It _is_ clever. It’s also abhorrent and diabolical, but it _is_ clever,” Peter said firmly. At the expression on her face he sighed. “All right, let’s take this one step at a time. MJ, take a moment to assume the assassination had succeeded. What would we, the Arachnids, be doing?”

“You’d be looking for the next person to take the throne.”

“Which would throw the country into chaos even _if_ we were at peace without the threat of another nation attempting to take us over,” Peter said bluntly. She stared at him in shock for a moment and he nodded. “Now—none of that happened, which means you’re still alive. What’s the next step?”

Once again Queen Mary Jane thanked the goddess for Peter’s ultimately unselfish nature. She hadn’t known it at the time, but  befriending the young Peter had been one of the best decisions that her child self had made. “Attack,” she said grimly.

Peter nodded. “The spy is probably a distraction. We need to prepare for battle.”

“But—how would they get their army close enough?” asked MJ with confusion. “Someone would have said something.”

“But would you have heard it?” asked Peter. “All three of my suspects are in a position to prevent you from hearing information like that.” He turned to look towards the walls where Jamison had attacked so very long ago. “We need to get our defenses ready.”

“What about our mates?” asked MJ as she fell into step with Peter on the way to the army compound.

“I think they’ve got the business with the spy covered. Now it’s up to us to protect them while they get that figured out and handled. Ah, Miles.” Peter stopped the boy. MJ noticed that he was wearing palace livery and masquerading as a page again. “When the battle starts run and tell the two alphas in Central Court that we’re under attack.”

Miles nodded and dashed off as MJ looked at Peter with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?” she asked.

Peter shrugged sheepishly. “Well,” he said reasonably, “they’ll be upset if we  _don’t_ tell them.” She laughed. 


	85. Flash 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash ruminates on his time in Ajax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers. Soft, sweet and tender little hearts. This is another dark one, I'm afraid. Let me direct your attention, once again, to the tags. The story will get better. (I feel obligated to add that there will be a happy ending--or at least a bittersweet one and our main couples come out fine.)

Ajax was—very different from Arachne. First was the weather. Even in winter the Arachnid weather was mild. They had cold snaps, but nothing too severe, even close to the northern border. In Ajax though—the snow hadn’t stopped blowing and the storm had lighting in it. He hadn’t even known it was possible for a snowstorm to _have_ lighting.

The people were different as well. There was an odd expression on most faces, equal parts grim determination and hopelessness. He wasn’t going to lie and say that the people in Arachne were all _happy—_ but they certainly seemed to be _happier_ than the ones in Ajax.

Then were were the rulers. No matter what his personal gripes about Queen Mary Jane were, he had to admit that she listened to her people and when she made a declaration she did not pretend that she was speaking _as_ the kingdom —just as t he representative _for_ the kingdom. She _was_ the leader, no argument about it—but she didn’t pretend that her will was the will of the _entire_ kingdom.

The current king of Ajax _did_ . And worse—he seemed to _believe_ it. The first time that Flash had met the man they’d had a long talk (well, Flash had listened) about how the goddesses had perverted the original purpose of mankind in order to force humans to bend to their ways. It was clear to Flash that the man was both very, very convinced of what he was saying—and exceptionally insane.

Still. The man had power and he had subordinates that believed in him—despite the fact that everyone carried less pheromones than betas. He couldn't understand it himself; if his leader did something that made _him_ less—well, _him—_ he would have been planning a takeover and dethronement. These people—did not. They had an almost fanatical belief in their leader.

Flash saw him as a tool to punish those who had wronged him. He’d thought the king understood and would respect that—until the man had demanded he renounce the goddesses. Flash knew a thing or two about intimidation tactics. The demand came after a dinner “show” of a man getting tortured before the man was carried away. Tortured to the _brink_ of death—then allowed to heal. And then, after watching that—the demand that Flash kneel before the throne and renounce the goddesses.

Flash was not stupid. He couldn't have been a good spider breeder if he was. He knew he was being manipulated—just as he knew he would do anything necessary to get his revenge. Revenge on Commander Osborn. Revenge on Harry Osborn. Revenge on Queen Mary Jane and her little court. Revenge on that monster who came out of nowhere and stole the omega _he_ wanted. He’d get revenge on them all and would do anything to do it.

It was a good thing he was kneeling with one fist on the ground when he renounced the goddesses—or he would have collapsed at the shock of all the blessings being taken from him. It was as though he _had_ been wrapped in a warm, soft blanket and then—suddenly the blanket was gone. No wonder all of the king’s followers looked so desperate.

Flash’s hatred of the Arachnid kingdom grew. It was their fault he was forced to this! Their fault he’d had to take this step! And he would destroy them all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oxrWL0mUCbc
> 
> Because you probably need it after that chapter.


	86. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets a spider bot that can talk, and calls a meeting with the other leaders of the kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to. The chapter ran away with me (this is not where I intended to go with it, but I like it so I'm keeping it like this), and I hope you enjoy it.

Tony rubbed his eyes as he stared at the robot in front of him. Was he hallucinating? He felt like he was hallucinating. He also _didn’t_ feel like he was hallucinating. He tried rubbing his eyes again. The scene in front of him hadn’t changed.

The small spider bot on the table in front of him turned to follow his movement. Okay, good. All the bots did that—they were drawn to movement like flies to honey and they loved people. All good. It was a little odd that this one was left in the kitchen of his quarters, but not _that_ strange. That wasn’t what made him question his reality.

“What did you say?” he asked the bot in astonishment.

It waved its front legs in the air. “Love Tony!” it said in a high-pitched whine that was almost painful to listen to.

Pepper walked into the room with a steaming cup of tea and a smirk. “You did want one that could talk,” she reminded him as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Love Pepper!” the spider bot squeaked.

Pepper dropped a quick kiss on the robot. “Love you too,” she said warmly.

Tony sighed. “We all love you,” he told the robot. “And we love all of you,” he said as he looked around at the now five spider bots in his quarters.

The little spider bot waved its front legs in the air again. “We protect you!” it announced.

“You—” Tony stopped. He thought about the people who had spider bots attached to them. Steve. Bucky. Bruce. He thought about the person who _didn’t_ have a spider bot—Stephen. Clearly, Peter held a grudge.

Just what did the rogue bot think its directive _was_? What was the purpose of all these spider bots? He looked at the spider bot with a new, appraising eye. “What are you protecting us from?” he asked.

“Bad things! There’s a bad thing coming!”

“What kind of bad thing?” asked Pepper as she took a sip of her own tea.

“Very bad thing! Not enough yet, but will protect you!” The front legs waved again. “Love you all!”

“Right,” said Tony as he shifted to work mode. “Pepper, we’re going to have to call a council of war. This is important. Come here little guy,” Tony said as he held out his hand to the spider bot. It gleefully jumped into his hand and crawled up his arm, little legs prickling uncomfortably at him.

“I’ll let them know,” Pepper said grimly.

Tony addressed the spider bot that was now riding on his arm. “You,” he told it, “are going to have to speak for everyone. You know, since you’re the only that can.”

The spider bot rubbed against the crook of Tony’s neck. “I love Tony!” it chirped.

Tony rolled his eyes and reached out to pet it. “I love you, too,” he agreed wearily. He walked off knowing that Pepper would have everyone else in the conference room by the time he got there. They were.

Natasha, Bruce, Steve, Bucky, Stephen, and Pepper were already in the conference room, as he’d expected. He walked up to the circular table and held a hand out for the spider. “All you, Bub,” he said calmly.

He did not expect the spider bot’s reaction. It suddenly began dancing on his shoulder and squealing. “A name!” it cried as it danced. “Tony gave me a name!” It rubbed into the crook of his neck again and then jumped to the table still vibrating with excitement.

Even Natasha smiled at the little bot’s antics. “Thank you Bub,” said Steve, a mischievous glint in his eye as he extended a hand towards the thing. “It is nice to meet you. I’m Steve.”

The little spider bot shivered and then danced with even more excitement. “Hi Steve!” it chirped as it danced. “Love Steve! I’m Bub!”

Steve chuckled and withdrew his hand. “And we love you too Bub,” Steve said.

The spider crooned and then launched itself at Tony, burying its face in his chest. Tony reached up and caught the thing before it’s little legs dug too deeply into his skin. “Yes, Bub,” he said with a wince. “I told you that before.”

The spider bot let out a sound suspiciously similar to a giggle before jumping back to the table. “Hi!” it said waving its arms.

Natasha grinned wickedly. “Hello, Bub,” she said. “My name’s Natasha, and I love you too.” The words prompted a repeat and he glared at her as she smiled sweetly back. She’d never quite forgiven him for that time he’d “accidentally” remodeled her workout room with a new (better) design.

After that they went around the table, introducing themselves to the spider bot, assuring it that they loved it. And each and every single time the little thing got embarrassed and leaped up to Tony’s chest to bury its face there. Everyone except Tony was amused.

At the end of it, Stephen walked into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” he said as his sentient cloak flapped in an invisible breeze.

“Stephen, meet Bub,” Natasha said warmly as she gestured to the spider bot on the table.

The spider bot that promptly spun in a circle at the table looking at everyone. “Stephen?” it asked, confusion in its high-pitched voice. “Who’s Stephen?”

Tony frowned as Pepper pointed towards the man. The large, insanely conspicuous man. “That’s Stephen,” Pepper said gently. The spider whirred in confusion.

“The spider bots can’t see Stephen,” Tony realized out loud. No wonder none of the attention seeking little brats had attached themselves to him—as far as they were concerned, he didn’t exist. Which was—odd.

Maybe it wasn’t just a grudge from Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it better or worse that I break up tense chapters with fluff when I can? Let me know.


	87. Flash 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash leads an invading army across Arachne and into battle at the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my audience. Chapter trigger warnings: there is violence, a little bit of gore (just a little), and there is a character death in this chapter. Summary (including spoilers) down below.

Even the most hardcore fanatics of Ajax were nervous around their new god. The shiny, liquid-like black substance that surrounded the vessel (in no way could it be called a “man” anymore) with white patches on the forearms to the wrists and white markings on its face that made it look—skeletal. There was also something—inherently threatening about it, like it was a few moments away from killing everyone.

The only one who didn’t seem to notice, was the king of Ajax himself. “A god _needs_ to be threatening,” he growled when someone (unwisely) brought it up to him.

This was more proof to Flash that the man was insane. _He_ hadn’t needed the reminder—although the people that served the madman seemed to be in shock. It was amazing the lengths the servants would go through to _not_ be the one waiting on their new god.

At this point Flash _could_ have started a revolution against Francis, the new god being one disaster too many for the people, he _could_ have—but he still needed to get his revenge. It wasn’t _his_ fault the Arachnids were too hung up on tradition to understand the genius of his breeding methods. No, he needed to teach them a lesson, and the Ajax was his tool to do so.

Well, not _all_ of the Arachnids were hopeless; there was this one girl back home who was willing to send him information. He’d had to convince her that he’d been framed for his father’s crimes, but it was worth it to give the information to the king of Ajax who then gave it to the Reaper “specialists.” He got grim pleasure out of the fact that his information was the reason his worst enemies in Arachne would die, and he was considered a valuable member of the court for his contributions.

He didn’t think twice about it when he was given a special mission—leading a force into Arachne and keeping them hidden from gossiping tongues until they made it to the castle. He thought it was a special privilege, not a punishment. A week into the mission changed his mind.

“No,” Flash said flatly as he looked around the group of warriors. “You cannot slaughter that village to the ground because a child saw your face.”

The soldier in question lifted his lips in a silent snarl. “We’re to leave no trace of our passing,” he argued.

“No,” argued Flash as reasonably as he could, “we’re to give _no warning_ that we’re coming. Nothing screams ‘mysterious enemies en route to the capital’ quite like entire villages being slaughtered.”

“We could make it look like the work of wild beasts,” argued another soldier.

“There _aren’t_ any in Arachne,” Flash said, much less patiently. “Look, Arachne has spiders, yes?” They reluctantly nodded. “The spiders _eat_ beasts and are _protective_ of people. There are _no_ wild beasts in this entire kingdom capable of destroying an entire village!” He took a deep breath and modulated his tone. “Look,” he said firmly, “it doesn’t matter if a child in the village saw your face.”

“We’re dressed as people from Reaper,” argued one of the soldiers.

A headache began to bloom in Flash’s temples. “Yes,” he said firmly. “We’re dressed as people from Reaper—because Arachne is accepting refugees from Reaper. Anyone identifying the way we’re dressed will _assume_ we’re refugees. That’s why we’re dressed like this!” They muttered rebelliously—but obeyed. After all, _he_ was the native. They moved on.

He didn’t know if it was because they had been raised in two very different lands or if there was some other factor in play, but they were absolutely _horrible_ to be around. Everything kept wearing at his patience; the way they hunted, the way they they fought, the way they _couldn't silently walk through a forest to save their damned lives_!

He consoled himself with thoughts of Peter. Memories of stolen glimpses from watching him with the temple children. Watching him weave in the courtyard of the temple when all the looms had been moved outside the temple for inexplicable reasons. Perhaps it had merely been a nice day. He’d fall asleep every night remembering slim, graceful hands passing the shuttle through the threads for weaving.

They reached the castle. They attacked. All according to plan. They had passed, unnoticed and unnoticeable, through the countryside. They had made it right when Flash was certain his pawn in the court was discovered. The rawest of the people with Flash had more training than most of the seasoned soldiers of Arachne. It should have been a slaughter.

It was. Waves of defenders fell against the onslaught, well within prediction. He was not surprised when more soldiers swarmed out of the castle, over the walls on the backs of their spiders—only for the spiders to fall to the poisonous arrows the soldier specialists carried.

There were several miscalculations. They didn’t have enough arrows for the spiders, as the poison didn’t work on spiders _and_ humans—and it was necessary to cut through the oncoming human soldiers as well. Being born and raised in Arachne, Flash was inherently immune to the initial rush of fear that humans felt being face to face with what their minds insisted was a monster, no matter how much they knew better. The soldiers with him had no such insulation; they last a good third to sheer, blind panic to the first wave of rider spiders coming over the wall.

He had expected for Commander Osborn to run out, to personally protect his mate. He had expected to see the monster that had claimed Peter do the same and relished in the notion that he might take one of them down. He had _not_ expected for the Queen of Arachne herself and High Priest Peter to come out and join the fighting.

He certainly hadn’t expected his own reaction to seeing it. Both Queen and High Priest were quickly surrounded. Flash’s gaze centered on Peter—watching him fight valiantly, but failing. Knowing he was going to be overrun, going to die.

_No!_

Then, out of nowhere, a whisper in the back of his mind. _“I can help you save him.”_

Flash looked out at the omega he loved, in danger because of _him_ , and whispered, “Please.”

The transition was quick, and swift. He was shoved into the back of his mind as— _something_ took over his body. He watched as as black, oily tendrils spun away from his core to stab through the bodies of those nearest him and then watched as his body raced towards the endangered priest. He was nothing more than a passenger now.

Freed from having to try to control his body, he watched what he could through the battlefield as his body fought to protect Peter. (It also, irritatingly, protected the Queen.) From the corner of his eyes he could see a menacing figure make it to the field wearing a suit so vibrantly red the blood that splashed against it looked dull in color. No, colors were starting to look dull.

The tide of battle turned, the attackers were beaten back, and the force that had pushed Flash out of his body suddenly let him take it back over. He collapsed in pain. Somehow, during the battle, he’d been stabbed several times and he was bleeding out.

He was caught, on his way to the ground, by a pair of arms. He looked up into a pair of swimming amber eyes. “Eugene?’ asked Peter softly.

Peter remembered. Peter remembered his name. “Hey,” he croaked reached up. His hands left a bloody smear on Peter’s cheek. “You okay?”

Peter smiled through tears falling down his cheeks. “I’m okay,” he whispered.

“ _I can’t fix it,”_ a voice wailed through their minds.

It was the last thing that Eugene, also known as Flash, ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flash leads an army into battle at the Arachnid castle, sees Peter in danger and agrees to allow the entity to help him protect the High Priest. In the process, his body has been stabbed and injured severely, resulting in his death.


	88. Entity 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entity gets blessings from the last two goddesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is short--but a little intense. We're heading towards the endgame now (no connection to the move AT ALL!!!). Expect chapters to maintain a dark(ish) tone for a while. I'll get them all up as fast as I can. :)

The entity wailed. Emotion ripped through it like it was being ripped apart, but it was still fine. It wasn’t sure how. Surely this much pain had to have a physical cause—right?

“So you have felt it.” The entity whirled to see two more goddesses in its space—one with blood red hair and one with pure white hair. It wasn’t sure which of them had spoken, until the one with red hair spoke again. “That need to help, to protect. The despair at being unable to. You have felt it.”

“Are feeling it,” murmured the white haired goddess.

“Are feeling,” the red haired goddess accepted the correction. She studied the entity. “You wish to be able to heal.”

_**yes** _ **!**

“Good.” The red haired goddess looked at the entity. “One does not gain the ability to heal others without the desire, the inherent _need_ to help. My High Priests understand this.”

“ _My_ High Priest understands it as well.”

“Yes, and you may wish to create another one,” said the red haired goddess. “If all goes well with this war, you know what will happen.”

The white haired goddess smiled. “I do,” she admitted calmly. “And I—I have a plan.”

The red haired goddess watched her with narrow, storm filled eyes for a moment before she sighed. “Our sister will not like it.”

“Our sister will not object.”

“That is beside the point.” The red haired goddess turned her attention back to the entity and a red light bloomed in front of her. “I have a blessing for you,” she said. “For you, who have felt the need to heal, felt the desperate desire to do so. Here.”

The entity did not pause. It took the blessing, gratefully.

“I also have a blessing for you,” the white haired goddess said as a ball of white light bloomed in front of her.

The entity regarded the blessing warily. All of the other goddesses had explained why they were granting it blessings and while it would not refuse—it also did not understand.  ** why? **

The white haired goddess smiled. “For those who will call on you. Has My Priest explained why I granted them the spiders?”

** for protection? **

“That’s right. The spiders protect those in my domain.”

“And outside of it,” muttered the red haired goddess.

“And sometimes, outside of it as well,” admitted the white haired goddess calmly.

The red haired goddess narrowed her eyes. “You almost killed your priest.”

The white haired goddess smiled. “He survived,” she said approvingly. Before the entity had a chance to properly digest that statement, the goddess had moved on. “This,” she said gesturing to the white light, “will give the same power to protect that my spiders have. You can be a healer  _ and _ a protector.”

The entity thought. It remembered a conversation the mate had had before. It took the blessing.  ** thank you. **

The white haired goddess smiled and then both goddesses were gone. The entity remembered the mate speaking about blessings, and how blessings could be dangerous. It also remembered the mate being in deadly danger. What had the white haired goddess done to the mate?


	89. Morphio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicia, Michael, and Chloe are responsible for defending the Morphio border against the Ajax when they're told to report back to the castle immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things, one about the fic and one about RL. As far as the fic goes: I was looking for the name of guy who becomes Morphio on Google only to discover that I remembered the name wrong and it's not Morphio, but Morphius. I'm keeping my original name, just because I like the rhyming scheme it has with Mysterio (and maybe because I'm a little lazy).
> 
> As far as RL goes: I had to take my sick cat to the vet yesterday morning. (He had a fever of one oh three, according to the vet, got something to bring the temperature down and an antibiotic shot, and we're hoping he makes a full recovery.) He wanted cuddles, and the cat came first. This is my cat Spot, the pet that Peter's monster of a rider spider was named after and if anyone tries to tell me he's just a cat I will hunt them down and rub catnip all over them so they get attacked.

Felicia carefully crept through the foliage making no more sound than a small cat as she stalked the intruders. The group was woefully ill-equipped for  sultry heat of Morphio. From the looks of the fur coats, thick tents, and firewood they were carrying they were expecting a climate similar to their own. Felicia’s eyes narrowed as she considered; there was a possibility that the heat would take care of the threat for her, that there was no need to actually interfere.

People knew that those from Morphio were healers. It was common knowledge, and they didn’t bother hiding their exceptionally high ratio of healers from the other kingdoms. What  _ wasn’t _ common knowledge were the people who worked behind the healers. People who weren’t healers, but protected the healers and their patients. People like Felicia.

She listened with half an hear as the leader ordered the others to take off their cloaks and ditch the firewood. Seemed he was smart enough to realize the heat could kill. She was going to have to take action after all. She crept through the thick foliage towards them and slipped, unseen, into the food wagon. There she carefully added some choice “herbs” to the mix of grains they were using for food. For good measure she added similar “herbs” (only these were scentless and tasteless) to the beer barrels. Then she slipped out—unseen, unnoticed. They’d be dead in days.

She returned to her group with as much speed as she could muster—which was a lot, compared to the average human. The last person she’d seen able to keep up with her had been that priest from Arachne. Chloe and Michael were waiting for her. “Got another probe,” she announced as she embraced Michael.

Chloe shivered in the night. “That’s too many,” she fretted. “That’s what, four in the last week?”

“Fortunately they haven’t figured out why the probes aren’t returning yet,” Felicia said.

Chloe shook her head as she poked the fire. “It won’t be too long before they do,” she said wearily. 

Michael snorted. “What are they going to do?” he demanded. “Between the mountains and the jungle they’ll have to keep splitting up.”

“And we’ll be waiting for them,” added Felicia with a little bit of judicious venom in her voice. One of the priests that had survived the “mercy” of the Ajax had been her father. She owed them for that.

The other kingdoms believed Morphio to be a tranquil place of healers, with no one to protect them. It was a naive view. As Felicia knew well, the medicine that helped ease the pain could also make a person sleep to death. The knife which could cut out a growth or operate to save could also be placed to kill. No one knew better than a healer how the body was put together. The healers of Morphio were not helpless.

A burst of acrid air alerted them to the arrival of Kurt. “New plan,” he told them. “And we need to get to the capital  _ now _ .” Surprised, but trusting of their friend, they held hands and Michael grabbed Kurt’s shoulder as the boy took them to the capital through one cold, dark moment.

“Good,” Henry McCoy, King of Morphio told the four as they knelt before him. He inclined a dark blue head towards the small group. “We have a plan.”

“That is good to hear,” murmured Michael. Felicia gave him a sharp elbow and was rewarded with an unrepentant grin.

H enry, used to this interaction between the two of them, said nothing.  Ororo, walking into the room, had no such kindness. “Pay attention children,” she scolded gently. “This is important.”

Chastised the two turned their attention back to their ruler who smiled, reached out, and kissed his wife’s hand before turning to the group in front of him. Felicia recognized the look on his face; he only wore it when he knew was going to give news the people in front of him were  _ not _ going to want to hear. “We’re going to support Arachne’s border against Ajax,” he said bluntly.

There was a moment of stunned silence before everyone spoke at once. “We can’t!” Michael said. “We’ve got to defend our own people first!”

“What if they get past our border?” demanded Felicia. “Our people will be sitting ducks!”

“What about the refugees?” asked Chloe, worried. 

Only Kurt said nothing. Felicia wondered if the boy had already known. 

Ororo held up a single hand for silence. She received it. “All civilians, including  the refugees, will be evacuated into Mysterio.” Her eyes watched them. “It was their suggestion.”

“Their suggestion,” Michael managed to keep his internal derision for all things Mysterio out of his voice as he spoke, and Felicia was proud of him. 

“Ajax has absorbed Reaper and, for the moment, Reaper is no more.” The four looked up at the monarch in shock and their blue ruler nodded grimly.

“Reaper may permanently be no more,” Ororo added grimly. Felicia’s eyes, turning blue with the rising of the sun, took in the Queen’s appearance. Her platinum hair rested lightly on her white suit, a thin thing that disguised the armor beneath it. For the first time Felicia noticed that their king was also wearing _his_ armor. Their monarchs were preparing for _war._

“What’s going on?” asked Felicia, all business. There was a reason _she’d_ been the chosen ambassador to Arachne, after all.

“Ajax is going to try to conquer Arachne. From there, they’ll use their position to take Mysterio. And from Mysterio—”

Ice cold dread washed through Felicia. “They’ll have a straight shot to us.” Morphio’s southern border was not protected by mountains. It was practically clear—and the places nearest the border were the same climate as the kingdom itself. They would be pathetically easy to conquer.

Ororo nodded. “And thus,” she said grimly, “we must do  _ everything _ we can to support the Arachnids. They’re our last defense against Ajax.”


	90. Gate 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a plan to expand the Crystal Gate so soldiers can make it to Arachne quicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Bring your tissues to this one; it's brutal. Sorry, but it was necessary.

Peter chewed his lip as he tossed the third crystal to activate the gate. He wanted to get the communication crystal and double check with Tony to make sure that he was doing it right—but the two could not be used in close proximity to each other. Peter was just going to have to hope that he had gotten it right.

The last time he had spoken with the older man, Tony had come up with a plan. They couldn't possibly send all of their soldiers to Arachne through the Crystal Gate—but there might be a way to send a good chunk. Tony thought he’d come up with a plan, a way to temporarily break the limits of the gate.

It was dangerous, both for those traveling and those at either end. Tony hadn’t gone into specifics, but Peter could take guesses. It was one of the reasons he was doing this in the open courtyard with orders for everyone to stay back. He was worried it would explode.

The first thing to come through the gate were several metal spiders. One of them, the size of his hand, leaped over the others and climbed Peter. “Hi!” the cheerful thing said. “I’m Bub!”

Peter couldn't help but smile at the little spider’s happiness. “Hello Bub,” he said gently. “I’m Peter.” The spider squealed and danced as Peter chuckled in amusement.

One of the thigh high metal spiders came over to Peter and rubbed its head against his leg. The innate blessing that allowed Peter to understand normal spiders allowed him to understand this one. The spiders were going to form a circle around the Gate and try to give an extra boost of power to make it bigger.

“It says—” the little spider began to translate.

“That they’re going to try to boost the Gate’s capabilities to allow a greater number of people to go through at the same time,” Peter gently translated as he rubbed the back of the metal spider in front of him. Despite being made of metal instead of exoskeleton, these spiders were exactly the same as the ones that Peter was familiar with.

The little spider on his shoulder gasped. “You _understand_!”

Peter merely chuckled as the spiders circled the Gate. “It’s a blessing,” he said gently to the little spider.

“Oooh!” whispered Bub as the Gate began to change color.

Peter frowned as he looked at it. Normally the Gate was a pale amber color—but this was much darker, it was turning black with streaks of red in it. “Is it supposed to look like that?” Peter asked the little spider.

“Oh, this isn’t good.” Peter turned, with mild annoyance, to see his mate. Wade shook his head and gave a low whistle.

“Wade!” hissed Peter in desperation. His mate was _here_ , and in _danger_. “What are you doing here?”

“Because unlike the orange-dyed duo,” Wade said as he crossed his arms, “ _I_ didn’t believe you were evacuating the courtyard to ‘make the transition easier’.” He pinned his mate with an unreadable look, given that half of his face was covered with the bright red hood of his new outfit. “You were trying to protect everyone.”

“I was _trying_ to protect you as well,” growled Peter.

Wade sighed as he turned his attention back to the gate in front of them. “Did you honestly expect me to stay back, stay _safe_ , when my mate is in danger?” he demanded. “I can’t _do_ that Petey.”

“Petey?” asked Bub curiously. “Aren’t you Peter?” it asked.

“What the—”

Peter quickly interrupted. “Bub, this is my mate, Wade.” As always when Peter introduced him as his _mate_ , the alpha preened slightly. “Wade, this is Bub. He’s a metal spider.”

“Hi Wade!” said Bub cheerfully as it waved its forelegs at him. “I love you!”

“I’m taken,” said Wade flatly. He raised a fist towards the spider. “Nice to meet you anyway.”

Bub makes an odd chirr noise, similar to what Spot sometimes made. “I don’t understand,” it protested.”

Peter had to chuckle. “Bub, for humans the word ‘love’ has two meanings,” he explained. “There’s the ‘love’ between friends and family, and the ‘love’ for a mate. Wade thought you were saying the second.”

“Oooh,” said Bub. “Doesn’t that get confusing?”

Before either Peter or Wade could answer the Gate suddenly expanded and something that looked eerily like lighting began to flash along the edges as the very sky over the courtyard began to darken. Wade put himself between Peter and the Gate, watching the scene warily as both humans and metal spiders began to cross.

Peter pushed him aside to issue orders. “Quickly!” he told the oncoming soldiers, some of them in metal armor that looked silver. “Move quickly out of the courtyard!” He pointed towards the exit and the soldiers, with great presence of mind, strode quickly for the exit to get out of the way of those coming behind them and Peter kept repeating his orders as they streamed in.

The Gate pulsed once—twice—and began to shrink.

“No!” screamed a voice. Peter’s head whipped around to see Pepper being restrained. “Tony’s still in there!” she cried in a broken, heartbreaking voice.

Before anyone could move the little spider on Peter’s shoulder leaped down and ran to the interlocked ring of metal spiders around the Gate. It jumped on the back of one of them and, with a high pitched scream, sank its two front legs into the spider beneath it. The Gate pulsed once—twice—and four more people, including Tony, were spat on the other side before a ripple of what appeared to be lightning raced through the metal spiders as the Gate dissipated.

Pepper ran to her mate and helped him up. Tony shook his head, looked over, and saw the charred remains of the metal spiders who had helped expand the Gate. “Oh, no,” he said softly, voice full of grief as he lurched over to the pile and pulled the little spider off the top. “Bub,” he said.

There wasn’t a sound in the courtyard as the little spider reached up. “Love…Tony,” it said before the last little bit of light left its eyes.

Tony, disregarding the soot the little metal spider was covered in, clutched it to his chest and began to cry. Pepper wrapped her arms around her mate and kissed his temple as he sobbed and the rest of the bystanders stood, silently, to allow the man to grieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm sorry for being so curt yesterday. There was an idiot in the clinic who said that it wouldn't matter if my cat died because "it's only a cat." Fortunately, his dog had a better sense of preservation than he did and ran to hide.


	91. Grieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony takes a moment to mourn the loss of Bub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter--but another sad one. Sorry, also had to be done.

Queen Mary Jane surveyed her court. Tony was shocked at how different the young woman looked on the throne than when she was with just him and Pepper. He barely heard her explanation of how the Mysterio had managed to cross so quickly into Arachne to bolster their falling front lines.

“Outrageous!” snarled one of the noblemen suddenly.

“That’s Nobleman Jamison,” muttered the child to his left. Peter had left him and Pepper in the care of one of the children from the temple. “He has a little bit of a temper,” added the child as the nobleman stomped towards the throne.

Tony looked at the man, about his age, with a thick, carefully managed mustache and the gray at both temples. “Your Majesty, this is a disgrace! A complete disgrace!”

Queen Mary Jane merely looked at the ranting nobleman. “Tell Us what the problem is,” she ordered.

To Tony’s surprise the nobleman swung a fist around to point at Tony. “That man,” snarled Nobleman Jamison, “has just lost a spider! He can’t go to the front lines! He needs time to grieve!” The nobleman turned and stomped through the crowd until he reached Tony, face suffused with rage. He reached out—and clasped one of Tony’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said gruffly. “We’ve all lost spiders. We know you need grieve.”

Back in Mysterio there had been rabid speculation about whether or not the Arachnids would accept the metal spiders. There had been plans devised on how to help the Arachnids acclimate to the new spiders. In that moment, Tony realized that those plans had never been needed.

From the perspective of those living in Arachne, spiders were a blessing from the goddess. It didn’t matter if the spider was organic or metal; to an Arachnid they were all the same. Here in the heart of Arachne the people understood, as Tony _hadn’t_ , how precious the spiders were. Eyes filling with tears all he could do was nod as Pepper snuggled into his side to try and comfort her upset mate.

“Come boy,” the noble said gruffly as he gently took one of Tony’s arms. “There are more soothing places to grieve than this.” He led Pepper and Tony out of the audience room.

Queen Mary Jane—said nothing. She neither condoned nor condemned the action and the four (Miles was tailing along behind them) left without another word. Tony expected to see judgment and anger on the faces of those he passed—but all he saw was sympathy and understanding.

Nobleman Jamison turned to look at the boy. “Still following?” he asked.

Miles grinned unrepentant at the man. “High Priest Parker asked me to look after them.” He shrugged, not losing a bit of his grin. “Can’t very well look after them if I’m in another room, can I?”

“You are an unnatural child,” grumbled the nobleman.

The grin didn’t diminish a bit. “Comes with being a temple child.”

The nobleman snorted. “I’m glad I never got called to the temple,” he muttered. “Here,” he said directing Tony and Pepper to what appeared to be a garden. There were trees and large flowers everywhere. “All spiders that die to protect their people get buried here.” The nobleman stopped in front of a smooth patch of dirt. “And yours was buried here, in honor of his sacrifice to save as many lives as it could.” The nobleman turned to them. “There is no shame in grieving such a life. Take all the time you need.”

Pepper leaned into him and placed her head on his chest and he leaned against her. He did as the nobleman suggested, and took some time to grieve. He would have to go back to work, to figure out how they were going to mix the unlikely combination of Mysterio and Arachnid forces.

But for now, he took some time to grieve for the happy little spider that had loved everyone.


	92. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade, Harry, Peter, and Tony make their first plans for the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slow updates. Work stuff is sapping my strength.

Harry sighed and looked at the table. “We’re still out matched,” he said bluntly.

“Excuse me?” demanded the prickly man, Tony, in front of him. “Did you not see the massive increase to your army my people brought?”

“Your people haven’t had to fight Ajax,” Harry explained, trying not to lose his temper. “We have. Those people are not sane.”

Peter hummed as he studied the board and Wade sighed. “I saw the aftermath, and I saw them when they were attacking my castle,” he said softly. “They were—there were a few that  actually impaled themselves on swords in order to kill the people behind them.”

“That was the battle to retake the castle,” Peter corrected gently as he studied the board.

Wade frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. According to your guards, the entire castle was taken by surprise when the Ajax took it over.” 

“Oh…” Harry watched Wade mull that tidbit of information over in his mind. “Are you sure? I remember seeing it.”

“You did. You’re just putting it with the wrong invasion.”

“Oh.” 

“Wrong invasion?” asked Tony, curiously.

“After Ajax took the castle, we took the castle back,” Harry summarized for the prickly man. “And Wade,” Harry added after a moment with a nod to the alpha.

Wade just grinned and waved. Peter was ignoring the exchange. “You know,” Peter mused thoughtfully, “Ajax has no idea what spiders are capable of.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “We can’t teach cavalry spiders how to dance Pete,” he said. “There’s not enough time.”

“What?” asked Peter looking confused. “Oh! No, that’s not what I was thinking.”

“Wait, what’s this about dancing?” asked Tony, clearly confused. Of course he was; he hadn’t been on the original Ajax campaign. And he’d clearly never been on a campaign with Peter. Harry had no idea what the two men had talked about, but the foreign alpha had no idea how Peter’s mind really worked.

A t that moment the door opened and a young woman that Harry vaguely recognized came in with a tray of drinks and food. Peter looked up and smiled at her. “How is the spinning coming along?” he asked her gently.

The woman set the tray down and self-consciously tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Fairly well, High Priest,” the woman said. “ Our spiders’ threads don’t snap nearly as much now.”

“Good,” approved Peter. “And your son? Is he integrating well?”

The woman smiled fondly. “Oh, yes. Just last week he got into trouble with a couple of the temple children for stealing pie from the kitchen.”

“So he’s made friends with Miles,” said Harry, remembering the incident. He shook his head and gave a low chuckle.

Peter chuckled as well. “I’m glad you’re both doing well,” he told her. She bowed and then quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.  He looked at Wade. “She and her son are some of the refugees from Reaper, from when we rescued you.”

“I’d wondered why she looked familiar,” Wade said.

“We could all take a lesson in adaptability,” Peter said.

Harry looked at the omega and wondered when the topic had changed. “What?” he asked.

Peter gave a low sigh. “Look,” he said fervently, “we’re not a match for Ajax  _ head-on _ , and we don’t have to be.”

“I’m listening,” Tony said as he looked at the boy intently. Harry would have been worried if he hadn’t known that alpha was already bonded.

“Spiders, especially the smaller ones, do not attack their prey head first. They lay traps. They make ambushes. Tony, can the mechanical spiders spin webs?”

“Uh—I don’t think so,” said Tony, clearly caught off guard by the question.

“What are you thinking?” asked Harry.

“First, we need to pick our own ground for the battle. And we need to prepare it properly.” Peter traced lines on the map as he gave his sage advice for the next stage of warfare. He looked up. “What do the two of you think?”

“I think you’re right,” Tony said grimly. “This might just let us win with the fewest casualties. Let me run it by Pepper.” He picked up the map and left the room.

“So,” said Harry as he nudged his childhood friend. “Just talks, huh?”

Peter rolled his eyes. 


	93. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allies are making their way to the front lines. Will they make it in time?

Michael and Chloe eye the replacement mounts with misgiving. Felicia had been expecting the change and merely hopped into the new saddle to wait patiently while the other two were shown how to mount. Then again, unlike them,  _ she’d _ had practice. 

During their journey to get to Arachne they’ve been riding, hard as they could, on mounts that were being swapped out when they were tired. The humans could go much farther than the  horses. Or, now they had reached Arachne, the spiders. Or at least, Felicia had  _ believed _ the humans could go faster than the spiders—she hadn’t realized how quick the huge things were. She’d  _ thought _ they went about the same speed as a horse. The ones she’d met had. 

She very quickly realized that the ones she’d met must have either slowed down to match the horses, or she was on some kind of insanely quick spider. It was a good thing  the saddle forced them to lean forwards. They also learned, quickly, why Arachnids did not wear cloaks. If the neck strap hadn’t been designed to break (all three of them ended up in fights where their opponents had no compunctions using their cloaks against them), then their  _ necks _ would have snapped as the cloaks got caught on trees as they were passing through areas that seemed too small for the spiders to fit.

When they stopped to change mounts Felicia looked around. “Is it me,” she asked her guide, “or are the spiders not staying on the road?”

“The roads have been subject to ambushes lately,” the guide said humbly. “And we need everyone we can get at the front lines, so we’ve stopped using them, for the most part.”

Truly a benefit of spiders over horses. Horses needed more space around them as they ran, and a spider could literally crawl  _ over _ an obstacle. Felicia nodded as she ate and then the four were mounted again.

At the next travel point Michael and Chloe were looking a little green. Felicia probably was as well—she was  _ feeling _ a little green. The woman in charge of the spiders took one look at the group and ordered them to rest. “You will do no good,” she told them firmly, “if you cannot function when you arrive.”

Michael protested. Chloe and Felicia  _ wanted _ to—but the woman was right. The journey was taking a toll on them, a higher one than even Felicia had  expected. They took a seat on something that  _ wasn’t  _ moving (and it felt  _ heavenly _ ),  ate some hot, fresh food (stewed rabbit and bread—the Arachnids ate a lot of rabbit), as they waited to be declared “rested.”

“I want to know,” Michael growled as he chased some stew around his bowl with his bread, “why Kurt couldn't have just brought us and saved us the trip.”

Felicia ignored the question. She knew, they all knew, why. The question was nothing more than grumbling. 

Chloe, new to the group, rolled her eyes. “You  _ know _ why,” she told him tartly. “Kurt can only go places he’s already been.”

“Or to people he knows,” added Felicia as she sipped the broth of her stew. It was a tasty stew, tastier than she’d ever imagined that rabbit could be—but the Arachnids got a lot of practice cooking rabbit. She supposed at some point people would be great at it.

Michael gave a few incoherent grumbles as he finished off his bowl. Without prompting their hostess grabbed the empty bowl, refilled it, and gave it back with another piece of bread. When he opened his mouth to protest, she glared at him. 

“What do you think we’ll find? On the border, I mean,” said Chloe as she slowly ate her stew. The girl wasn’t eating as much as Michael and Felicia were—but she hadn’t been using her goddess granted powers either. 

“I think,” said the hostess gently, “that you should trust to the goddesses. Besides,” she added in a slightly more practical tone, “High Priest Parker is helping plan the defense, and he’s faced the Ajax before.”

Felicia thought about her last interaction with the High Priest. “Yes,” she said softly. “He’s a smart one.”

“Smart enough?” asked Chloe, slightly desperate.

None of them had an answer. They wouldn't; not until after the war. Either he  _ was _ smart enough and they’d win—or they wouldn't exist long enough to wonder. “Let’s get some sleep,” Felicia suggested. “We can pick this up again in the morning.”


	94. Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has something to ask Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, yes, but I'm posting the next one right after it.

“Because you’ll be alone,” said Peter. The words weren’t delivered with a yell, a shout, or a whine. Somehow, that made them stab all the deeper.

Wade couldn't, _wouldn't_ , let it weaken his resolve. “I won’t be alone,” he protested gently as he sat on the bed next to Peter. “I’ll be with the army. And Mysterio’s army. And whatever has managed to trickle in from Morphio.”

Peter frowned, a crease wrinkling between his brows. “ _I_ won’t be there,” he protested.

“No,” said Wade firmly. “You _won’t_ be there.” He pulled Peter into his lap, and Peter did nothing to protest the movement. “I need to know you’re safe,” he said softly.

Wade was well aware that this was a dramatic reversal of what had happened between the two of them before. Last time Peter had asked Wade not to go, because he needed to know that Wade was safe. That had been after Wade had been rescued—and before Peter had been taken.

Wade knew that he could slice through any enemy that dared to challenge him. He wasn’t exaggerating when he claimed that he was the best in Reaper—he’d had to be. He knew he could cut a bloody swath of enemies with less effort than it took to make the suit he’d created for battle. But—he _couldn't_ if he thought that Peter was in danger.

Peter curled up on Wade’s lap and rested his head in the crook of Wade’s neck. “I remember,” he said softly, “asking you the same thing.”

Wade chuckled. “Feels like ages ago.”

“Both forever,” Peter agreed tilting his head up and punctuating his sentence with a kiss, “and yesterday.” He wrapped his arms around Wade and giggled into the throat.

The sensation made Wade shiver and he wrapped his arms around his mate and sighed into Peter’s hair. “I know what you mean,” he said absently.

“Yeah.”

The two of them sat, in silence, for a moment. “Will you Peter?” asked Wade suddenly as he held his mate close. “Will you stay here?”

Peter sighed. Wade knew, better than anyone, that Peter didn’t want to be left behind—but Peter had more than himself to think about now. They both did. “I will,” he agreed. “I can’t promise I’ll stay safe,” he added in a more normal tone, “but—but I’ll stay here. And Wade?”

“Yes?”

Brown eyes softened. “I’ll be waiting.”


	95. Calm 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and MJ have a quiet conversation.

Harry rested in the large, soft bed as he held his mate. The two of them were silent as they each thought their own thoughts. Suddenly MJ’s hand clenched into a fist on his chest as she looked up at him, green eyes wide and teary. “You _will_ be careful.” It was more than a command, more than a plea. It was a heartbreaking declaration that she couldn't survive if anything happened to him.

Just as heartbreaking was the fact that they both knew she would have to. If only for the life she was carrying. “I will be careful,” he whispered in acknowledgment. His arms tightened slightly around her. “And so will you.”

MJ giggled slightly at that. “As if I’d have a choice!” she said with a grin. “You know Peter’s going to be making sure I do well.” All the humor suddenly left. “I wish he was going with you,” she whispered.

“I know,” Harry said. Here, in the privacy of their room, with no one to hear, she could voice the selfish wish. They both knew that if Peter heard it he would bend anything he had to in order to make that wish a reality. They both knew that, if that happened, Wade would never forgive them, for the same reason that Harry would never forgive Wade and Peter if they’d made a wish that put MJ in harm’s way.

Harry gently ran his hand along MJ’s bare back and felt the curve of her rounded stomach poking him. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It will be all right,” he assured her. “Wade is just as smart as Peter is.” MJ snorted with disbelief. “No, really,” Harry protested. “Peter’s right; the man’s smarter than he looks.”

She snorted again. “He’d have to be,” she said bluntly. “Do you remember when we first met him? All blond hair and blue eyes, and I swear he didn’t look like he had a brain in his head.”

Harry gently stroked the tiny braids of her hair. “He does. And he knows the Ajax,” he added gently to her. “Between the two of us, he’s going to be the key to winning this.”

MJ restlessly ran a hand along his arm, tracing a long, thin scar. “I heard about Peter’s plan,” she said, still keeping her voice down.

“It’s a good plan.”

“It is a good plan.”

Neither of them added what they were both thinking—plans tended to fall apart in front of the enemy. “Wade will be there,” Harry repeated. “And Wade—Wade doesn’t _think_ like everyone else,” he added. “Whatever he plans for will be utterly and completely unexpected to the other side.”

They lay for another long moment in silence before MJ speaks again. “Wade told me he wants Peter to stay in my company as much as possible,” she said.

Despite everything, Wade had a bizarre tendency to be able to speak to whomever he wanted to. Harry envied that ability a bit; he’d love to be able to have that much time with his mate. “He might be thinking,” he said slowly, “that you and Peter can protect each other and that Vanessa can protect the two of you.”

“Perhaps.” A pause. Harry wished it was bright enough to see his mate’s face in the room; he would have loved to know what expression she was wearing at the moment. “Harry—I can’t fight.”

“What?”

MJ shifted, anxiety rolling off her in waves. “When I was trapped in the throne room—I couldn't do anything. I can’t fight—all I can do is run.”

The anxiety and hopelessness coming from her made his stomach churn. “We’ll get you lessons,” he told her. He felt her shift in the darkness, as though she was looking at him. Perhaps she was; her eyes had always been better than his. “After this is over,” Harry said softly, “and this one is born,” he said gently rubbing her swelling belly, “we’ll get you lessons. Start off with the new recruits.”

“But my duties—”

Once again Harry suppressed a flare of rage at his mate’s mother. That she still had such a hold on his lovely mate all these years after she’d permanently left was saddening. Harry gently kissed her. “We’ll make it work,” he promised.


	96. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins.

The pale light of false dawn lit the battlefield to the defenders as they watched the horizon. Most of the recruits were still raw, having never faced real battle before, but they all held like pros. They stood, still as Death, as they watched for the incoming enemy. They knew their lines. They knew what they had to do. More importantly; they knew that they were the last line of defense.

Standing in front of the army with impossible patience, stood a tall, foreboding figure in blood red. The muscular alpha stood tall, twin swords on his back in black leather sheaths. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the nature around the army as it waited.

As the sun rose the sky was tinted red, then orange—and the invading army was revealed on the other side of the field. For one long moment, the two sides gazed at each other. Then, the enemy commander with his heavy golden crown, used his sword to galvanize his force forward.

The defending army, resplendent with the icons of their goddesses, waited. Silently. Patiently.

The galloping horses thundered across the field—only to fall to the first of the traps. The horses screamed as their bodies fell onto spikes, humans screamed as they died, and the raw smell of fresh blood assaulted both sides.

The defending army did not move. They did not cheer, did not rant, did not taunt. They knew, they _all_ knew, how much the invading army needed to be whittled down. The invaders were not near that point.

What the invaders _didn’t_ know had to do with the spiders. Primarily, the little spiders. Most of the big spiders, rider spiders and so on, were diurnal to match their humans. Most of them. But the little spiders? Most of the little spiders were still nocturnal. They moved at night, under the cover of darkness. And the robot spiders that had come with the reinforcements could move at any time at all. The tricky part had been getting the spiders to understand what was needed, but that was where Peter had come in.

Harry Osborn, commander of the Arachnid army and, by mutual consent, the Morphio and Mysterio that were on the battlefield, watched his opponents with narrowed eyes through his helmet. If _he_ had been the one leading the army, he would call a retreat. A chance for the army to lick its wounds and figure out just how badly the field between the two armies was trapped.

The enemy commander did nothing of the sort. With another wave of his sword the army surged forward once again, horses leaping over pits that had been revealed—only to fall to the second wave of traps as spiders, both living and robotic, turned over tracts of grass and attacked.

None of the Arachnids had ever seen a spider attack a human before. Why would they? Spiders were the sweetest, cuddliest creatures in the world. The closest any of them had come to seeing an attack was when the formerly feral spider now known as Unicorn had attacked a horse.

Harry had no idea what Peter had told the spiders for them to attack the enemy so viciously. They bit, clawed, and ripped people (never horses, but the people riding them) in half before retreating across the field to the main part of the defending army and melting into the lines. Healers tended to the spiders, making sure they had taken no fatal damage at the hands of the enemy, as the two sides stared once again.

The invading army was now down a third from its original numbers. Now they about equaled the defenders. If the two of them met in heated battle now, it would be hard to tell who would win.

The enemy commander waved his army forwards once again—and into the _third_ trap of the battlefield. In the night, under the cover of darkness, the spiders had created a web across a crevasse that neatly separated the battlefield into two sections. Human helpers had covered the web with sod and leaf litter from the forest, making _look_ like solid land—an impression helped by the spiders that had run across it. What none of the enemy realized, however, was that the spiders had all been of the smaller sizes—and weighed merely a fraction of what a human did. Combine that weight with a horse, and the webbing _snapped_.

The invading army was now outmatched. Victory, for the defenders, was almost inevitable. They waited for the enemy to close, once again before attacking—and Wade, in his distinctive clothes, cut down bloody swaths of the enemy, bathing those around him in their blood. Victory was almost certain.

Then the enemy’s god took to the field.

 


	97. Entity 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entity sees the goddeses

The entity could not watch anymore. The enemy had taken to the field, the enemy was hurting those it cared about, and it needed help them. What did it need? Well, the enemy was a god, so perhaps a goddess?

The goddesses appeared in the entity’s realm. They did not exist there, and they left after speaking with it. Therefore, it must be possible for the entity to go to  _ their _ realm. 

It is. Soon the entity finds itself in a new place. This place was not the one where humans lived, although it could see that world through the area beneath the goddesses. Above the goddesses was a black expanse with countless lights—white lights, red lights, yellow lights—in it. Around them was an eerie blue light.

“The entity found its way here,” said the one with white hair. The entity almost recognized the emotion in her voice—it was very much like—surprise?

“We’ve certainly left enough paths for it to follow,” the purple haired goddess said.

“Why are you here?” asked the red haired goddess, ignoring her sisters.

** need to help. **

The black haired goddess bowed her head. “There’s nothing we can do.” It recognized that emotion. It was sadness. It had heard that emotion in a voice before. “We are bound away from that realm.”

** i am not. **

The golden haired goddess looked at it. “I don’t understand.”

**i am not bound to one plane.** **i can go anywhere.**

The entity waited. Surely, surely one of them was smart enough to see what it was suggesting. What it was offering.

The purple haired goddess shook her head. “You can not take us to that realm,” she said. “Take a good look at us, and then look at that realm.  We are bound away from it.”

The entity paused and looked over the goddesses. In the realm the humans lived, it could see the blessings that the goddesses gave as colored threads; it assumed (given that  there were only five different colors of threads) that each thread corresponded to a gift from a particular goddess. In this realm, away from the distractions of all the other threads, the entity saw something else—another thread. No, this was more like a cord. Thick green cords kept the goddesses and the realm below them separate.

** why? **

The purple haired goddess shook her head. “That is not important,” she said.

“You can act as an avatar.” They turned to look at the red haired goddess. Lightning shot through the clouds in her eyes as she looked at the entity. “You and whatever vessel you choose can be an avatar. You can act with out power. If you choose to accept it.”

**i choose.** **i will find a vessel.**

“And we will be waiting,” promised the goddess.


	98. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entity helps on the battlefield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One; I'm not very good at writing fight scenes. (Slightly better than writing sex scenes, but still.) Two; We are coming to the end of the fic. I'm not going to say how many chapters are left (last time I did that I ended up adding three more than I intended to), but we are coming to the end. So, without further ado, let me give a special shout out to all who guessed the entity's identity! You all get a hundred points meet by Who's Line rules--points don't matter.
> 
> HashtagSpideypool4Life  
> Aerographer  
> Fabytherabbit
> 
> Great job guys! :)

The battle was not going well. It had started well enough, the traps the High Priest of Arachne had planned took out just as much of the Ajax army as he had said they would. (Not as much as people had  _ hoped _ , but they were satisfied with the result all the same.)  Enough to give them more than a fighting chance; enough to give them almost certain victory.

Then the foreign god came onto the field. Unlike  what he’d heard of the entity that had once taken over both the High Priest and the Acolyte of All, this one was—terrifying. The white, skull-like face was split into a grin, it picked people up and ripped them apart with ease, and  _ it threw fire _ . It would take the  _ entire  _ army to kill it, and the thing had an army behind it!

_ N o _ , thought the guard pathetically. He remembered being trapped in the dungeons, hearing the screams of his prince as the alpha was subjected to insane torture. He’d been helpless then. He was helpless now.

“ _I can help you help them._ ”

He knew enough to know that was the voice of the entity. He wasn’t sure that it could do anything, that there was anything for it to do. But he was desperate—desperate enough to try anything. “Yes,” he said.

In a single moment he was pushed to the back of his body; it was no longer in his control. He watched as inky blackness marred with white formed over his body. At first he was worried that, instead of the entity he’d heard about, he had accidentally invited another of those—things from the enemy, but the white markings defined themselves into a spiderweb and he relaxed. As a soldier from Reaper he didn’t find the  markings as soothing as someone from Arachne would have, but he did feel better knowing that the webs were a marking of one of the goddesses. Clearly, whatever else the entity was, it had the blessings of the goddess.

His body suddenly had the enemy entity’s attention. “ _ I’ve heard of you _ ,” said the enemy in a voice that sounded—slimy. He felt  like just the sound was defiling him somehow. “ _ The previous god. Slunk away to bask in the light. _ ”

He watched as his body regarded the enemy in return. “ _ I do not know you. _ ” The voice was like hissing clicks, similar to the sound the Arachnid spiders made when they were upset. “ _ You were not one of us. _ ”

The enemy entity carelessly flung several of its own soldiers out of the way as it advanced. “ _ I am new! _ ” it bragged. “ _ Created to be what you lack.  _ _ Created to be  _ better _. _ ”

“ _Do you have a name?_ We _have a name_ ,” said the entity controlling his body.

The first  _ he’d _ heard of it. He thought someone would have mentioned by now that the entity had a name, instead of just calling it “the entity.” What was the name?

“ _We are a protector._ ” He watched as his body flung up an arm and the soldiers (that were _not_ allied with Ajax) near him healed to full health within seconds. “ _We are deadly._ ” His arm flung up to point towards the enemy and a shadow flew from his hand taking the lives of those it touched (only those who were allied with Ajax). “ _We—are Venom!_ ” 

“ _You,_ ” snarled the enemy, “ _will be dead!_ ” The enemy held out a hand and fire erupted to attack him. Them.

Venom merely snarled and a tendril of itself detached to meet the flame—and somehow  _ ate _ the flame. He could feel the warm th of the flames surrounding his skin as more shadows flowed out of Venom—but didn’t manage to touch the enemy.

The enemy laughed, a sound that made the hairs on his body try to stand against Venom. “ _ Do you know what I am? _ ” it asked as moved forward. He took a moment to notice that the field had mostly emptied of fighters allowing the enemy and Venom to fight as they needed to.

“ _I am the monster of their nightmares. I am the dreaded face in the night. I am Dreadface, and I will be your death!_ ”

It does—something. The very land around them seems to be dying. Venom snarls. “ _ No! _ ” Golden light empties from Venom enveloping the land around them, causing it to bloom and grow.

The enemy sneezes and its eyes narrow as it looks at Venom. “ _ You are not alone _ .”

“ _Not anymore._ ”

The enemy—Dreadface—snarls and retreats. The Ajax army follows it while the defending army watches them. The retreat is not a victory—it’s a postponement of what will happen.

He feels Venom’s attention shift inward.  _ “Can I stay for a while?” _ Venom asked. He could tell  that he was the only one who could hear the words.  _ “Not long; just need to talk to host.” _

_ Take all the time you need _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, there you are Eddie. Totally didn't see you there. :P


	99. Debrief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slice of calm after the battle.

Harry, commander of the Allied Countries, stared at the young alpha in front of him. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said pathetically.

Wade, first every Acolyte to All Goddesses, grinned and saluted the young soldier with his cup. “Congratulations on your promotion,” he said gamely.

The young alpha blinked stupidly and swayed in his seat. He was covered with a thick blanket of some kind (from the Morphio healers) and seemed to have trouble talking. The healers were concerned. Wade and Harry, having dealt with similar situations before, were not.

Realizing the soldier wouldn't be able to answer, Harry turned to Wade. “Do you know who he is?” he asked.

Wade swallowed his drink and made a face at the bitter taste. “He was the captain of the guard at the castle you and Peter rescued me from,” he said. “His name’s Edward.”

Edward stirred slightly, frowned, and opened his mouth as if to protest, but no sound came out.

Wade nodded in apology. “My mistake. Edward was your father. This is Eddie.”

There was a firm nod from the alpha, but no words yet. “Nice to meet you Eddie.”

“ _We are Venom._ ”

“And Venom,” added Harry belatedly.

Wade merely grinned. “Peter will happy to learn you have a name now,” he said. Harry didn’t think the alpha was speaking to the soldier.

“ _Host happy too?_ ”

“I’m happy too,” agreed Wade as he took another sip of his bitter drink. He scowled and looked at Harry. “Why am I drinking this again?”

“Wade, according to the healers you got stabbed fifty-seven times.” Harry had been a little busy to notice that Wade was _taking_ damage as well as _dealing_ damage—probably because the scarred man hadn’t even paused in his quest to kill as many of the Ajax as possible. Everywhere Wade had fought on the field was now soaked in blood.

“Venom killed more,” Wade pointed out.

“Venom is a powerful, ancient entity with powers beyond our understanding,” Harry said dryly. “You are human. Or were. Drink your damned tea Wade; I don’t want that healer yelling at me again.”

“Yelling builds character,” Wade said sagely as he started to put the cup down.

“Then I’ll tattle on you to Peter and he can help build _your_ character,” said Harry firmly. Wade winced and began drinking the tea again. “That’s what I thought.”

“You must replenish your blood.” They turned to see the slender healer make her way into the tent. Her blue skin glowed in the torchlight, golden eyes watching them somberly. “The tea will help,” she added.

“I don’t think that’s much of a problem,” Wade said.

The healer frowned. “Drink your tea,” she said, “or we’ll tell your mate you’ve been reckless.” She crossed her arms as she glared at the recalcitrant man. Like most of the army, she had quickly learned that while Wade could (and would) ignore or attack anyone else, his mate held power over him and threat of said mate’s displeasure could bring him into line.

“ _What is reckless?_ ” The healer flinched at the hissing voice, but said nothing.

This time, Eddie was the one who answered. “Reckless is where you’re not taking proper care of yourself.”

“ _Mate will be unhappy at reckless?_ ”

“Yes,” said the healer firmly.

“ _Then must not be reckless._ ”


	100. Dreadface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change of roles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a little darker than I've been doing, but not as dark as I've gone in this fic. Enjoy.

Ajax glared at the new god, anger heating his face. His subjects carefully kept themselves away. If they had been able to leave the castle, they would have.

“What was that?” demanded the mad king.

Dreadface, who had noticed the humans trying to be invisible, calmly asked, “ _ What was what? _ ”

“That—that— _farce_ on the battlefield!” snarled the insane man. “You’re supposed to be a _god_!”

“ _I am the god you created_ ,” Dreadface hissed. Once again, the nearest humans (excluding the mad king) winced at the sound of his voice. Good. They should cower before their god.

“You are a failure!” snarled the insane king, not noticing. “You should have killed them all and instead got beaten! Running away with your tail between your legs—”

Dreadface snapped an arm out and casually snapped the madman’s neck. Silence reigned through the hall.  He turned and surveyed the hall. The humans shivered. “ _ Does anyone else have something to say? _ ” he demanded.

To his shock and surprise a man stepped forward. “Pa—pardon me,” he said. “You just killed our king.”

“ _I did._ ”

The man swallowed. “That—that makes you our new king.”

“ _Does it?_ ” The gaze swept the room and several people, still shivering, nodded at him. Dreadface looked at the crown, still adorning the dead man’s head. Did he _want_ to be a king? He was already a god. Still, if it was tradition…

Dreadface reached down, grabbed the crown, and put it on his head. There was a minute sense of people relaxing in the hall. Interesting. They should have been  _ more _ afraid—but they weren’t. They actually seemed to be comforted.

“What do you want to do, Sire?” asked the man who’d said that Dreadface was now king.

What  _ did _ he want to do?  Dreadface collapsed into the throne as two people took the old king’s body away. “ _ I want to learn about Arachne. Everything everyone here knows. _ ” Eager to please, the subjects came forward, each telling what they knew of the other country. Sometime in the middle of it, dinner was served.

“ _Wait_.” Dreadface watched as the current speaker stumbled to a halt. “ _You said the High Priest is pregnant?_ ”

“He is, yes Sire,” said the human subserviently.

A smile split across Dreadface’s face. “ _ I have a plan _ .”


	101. Exercise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ and Peter are talking when they get some disturbing news.

“Because Harry knows nothing about new parents,” Peter argued to MJ, his friend, ally, and Queen. “I do. Acolytes of the temple help new parents with the pups, in order to make sure everyone is thriving,” he explained. “When the baby comes, you’re going to be too tired, worn out, and feeling icky to start an exercise routine of any kind.”

Queen Mary Jane allowed her gaze to roam the garden. Despite everything, she still felt safe here. Well, safer than she did in the throne room, at any rate. “What do you suggest I do?” she asked her best friend.

“Start now. Make exercising a routine. That way, by the time the baby comes, it’ll be so ingrained in your body that you won’t be _able_ miss much.” Peter watched as a hand drifted nervously to her stomach. He realized that she knew _nothing_ about exercises. The closest she’d ever come was dancing lessons from that horrible tutor. No wonder she was nervous. “There are exercises that won’t put the baby at risk,” Peter added.

MJ nibbled at her bottom lip for a moment before turning her to her bodyguard. “Vanessa, what do you think?” she asked.

Vanessa lounged against one of the trees, ignoring the prickly bark, as she repeatedly tossed and caught a dagger. She  _ looked _ like she was relaxing—but Peter had seen Wade in exactly the same pose and knew that, if a threat revealed itself, she could attack at a moment’s notice. Faster than Wade had, actually, at the time  _ he _ hadn’t been holding a weapon.

“I think,” Vanessa said, breaking Peter out of his thoughts, “that any kind of self defense you can learn would be good.”

Peter nods and MJ’s eyes narrow as she glances between the two of them. “What is that you’re not telling me?” she demanded.

Peter sighed. He’d been hoping she wouldn't catch on—but it was a vain hope. MJ had always been quick. “The battle isn’t going to win the war,” he said bluntly.

MJ’s eyes widen in shock, but Vanessa nods. “In training,” she said still flipping the knife up and down, “we learn pretty damn fast to think on our feet. No matter how great your initial plan is, no matter how well thought-out it is, there will always be  _ something _ that will mess it up.  _ Something _ that can’t be accounted for.” Suddenly she throws the knife and it lands, wavering, in the bark of a tree a mere breath away from the nose of the guard who had come into the garden. When the guard stared at her with wide, frightened eyes, she shrugged. “Sorry,” she said without sounding sorry at all. “I was startled.”

The guard paled, stammered something, and fled. MJ watched him go. “I didn’t even see him,” she said thoughtfully.

“I know.” Vanessa slunk across the garden to grab her knife. She gave a low whistle as she wiggled it free of the bark. “Damn, that’s a good tree.”

“The sap expands when exposed to air,” Peter explained. Vanessa tensed and dropped in a crouch as a loud clicking chirr sound echoed through the garden. “That’s just Spot,” he added quickly. The monstrous rider spider came into sight and wrapped Peter in a giant spider hug.

Vanessa did not relax. “That is just terrifying.”

“No,” corrected MJ with human glinting in her eyes. “ ‘Terrifying’ is when he’s begging the cook for more bread. Your mate’s a bad influence, Peter.”

Peter simply grinned at her as the two spidlings detached from Spot’s back and launched themselves at Peter chittering. They were going so fast it took him a moment to understand what they were trying to say. Then he stiffened. 

MJ was well acquainted with Peter’s body language. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

Peter looked up at her, mouth set in a grim line. “We’re about to be attacked,” he said. “The army won’t make it here in time.”

For the first time since the conversation began, MJ smiled. “Then it’s a good thing,” she said grimly, “that they haven’t all left.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we got this brand new energy drink yesterday (in time for the summer rush) and it comes in flavors (I kid you not) "Rainbow Unicorn" "Star Blaze" and "Drumroll."


	102. Preperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter consults with Felicia about defense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Off tonight, going to try and finish this thing. :)

Most people believed that all the Morphio were healers. Peter, on the other hand, paid attention. According to Felicia, _most_ of them are healers. Given the way that the woman had held her own in the fighting and that Peter hadn’t seen her heal, he was willing to bet that she wasn’t one of the healers. Especially since she hadn’t gone to the front lines with the rest. Peter had made sure to take her aside and tell her his suspicions, and then ask her to help him design a defense for the castle.

Then, there were the spidlings. One of the spidlings, one from Spot and Unicorn’s clutch, had attached itself to Felicia. Unlike most of the people from Morphio who gave the spiders as wide a berth as possible, she was thrilled. It went with her _everywhere_ , riding on her shoulder.

Peter was the only one who didn’t say anything about it. After all, while Wade was gone he was walking around with a spidling on each shoulder. They rode on his shoulders just as hers was doing when he found her. “Felicia,” he said calmly, “it’s starting.”

Felicia met his eyes and a grim smile stretched across her face. Most of the Morphio were dedicated to healing and to making people feel better. The ones that weren’t, like Felicia’s mate-to-be Michael, felt an all-consuming desire and need to _protect_.

Felicia wasn’t like that. She didn’t feel a need to _protect—_ she felt a need to _hurt_. Being part of the healers’ protection gave her an outlet that she could use to keep those desires fed and at bay. Peter wasn’t sure if anyone else was aware of her true nature.

She kept it well hidden. “The target,” she said calmly, “is going to be either you or Mary Jane.” She paused and pet the spidling (a soft blue and bright pink spidling with the distinctive horn of its mother) on her shoulder. “Or both of you,” she added.

Peter nodded. It was nothing less than he expected. With the majority of the army, their primary fighting force gone, the capital and the two rulers of the land were tempting targets. Clearly, too tempting. “The two of us have already discussed this,” Peter said firmly. “We’ll be directing the defense as long as we can, but you and I both know it won’t take long for them to breach the walls.”

“Your walls are pathetic,” Felicia said calmly.

Compared to walls in Reaper, to walls in Mysterio, it was true. However, it was hard to build truly good walls when your entire country knew that a rider spider could easily climb over it and be welcomed with open arms. That was the difference between Reaper and Arachne: if a rider spider went over a wall in Reaper it was _not_ because it wanted to meet more people. That was why the former king of Reaper had expended so much money and effort putting moats around the castles of his country; rider spiders were not fond of running water.

“You know the plan from there,” he told her.

Felicia absently twirled her knife. “It’s a stupid plan,” she said grimly.

Peter snorted. He knew why she thought it was stupid. “Do you have a better one?” he asked.

“No. But it won’t take the army long to realize what happened. They may get here in time.”

“Do you believe that?” The two of them stared at each other, and then she sighed.

Felicia’s blue eyes peered off into the distance as she mentally measured what she was going to have to do. “Can your people stall until nightfall?” she asked suddenly.

Peter smiled. “I think that can be arranged,” he said. The two exchanged a look. Then, one of the spidlings on Peter’s shoulder chittered something at the one on Felicia’s shoulder and all three their forelegs into the air, like they were cheering.


	103. Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ajax army, under Dreadface's command, lay siege to the Arachnid castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been away from my keyboard too long. This is taking too long to write; sorry.

Dreadface watched the defense with narrowed eyes. It didn’t look as though the fighters (surprisingly capable given the majority were somewhere else)  were actively trying  _ repel _ the invaders. They were defending, but there was something—off about it. Off about their efforts.

“My Lord,” one of the humans; Dreadface thought it was the one that had told him about the crowning, said. “Our casualties are suddenly getting high.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure.” Curious, Dreadface followed the human to the tent where the injured soldiers were being put. Dreadface wasn’t sure if the soldiers were being treated or just moved out of the way, and didn’t care.

Once inside the tent the problems became obvious. Wounds that had been minor—a slash from an arrow that didn’t penetrate, a scrape from a narrowly missed sword swing—were now festering piles of rot infecting bodies and turning them from humans into messes of inanimate flesh. “The defenders are using poison,” Dreadface said.

His human aide frowned. “I don’t think that’s possible,” he said. “Where would they get the poison?”

Dreadface paused. Dreadface knew, because the host body knew, that Arachnid spiders were poisonous. Odd that the humans from Ajax didn’t seem to know. “From the spiders,” Dreadface said before turning to stare at the castle walls again. “The humans are coating their weapons in spider poison.”

“They’ve never done that before.” The aide frowned before gesturing to the wounded soldiers around him. “We don’t know how to combat this.”

“ _I see_.” Dreadface contemplated for a moment. Truthfully, there was no reason that the humans couldn't keep dying. They were humans; humans died. Still—the humans might be necessary in order for Dreadface to reach the goal. Once the enemy humans figured out what the goal was, they were going to fight tooth and nail to keep the goal safe. Dreadface could simply kill them—but why waste the effort when there were humans here willing to make that effort instead?

Dreadface turned and left the tent to stare at the walls again. The walls were not that high—only two humans of height. They were not that solid—there were arrow slits and sword gaps all through the structure. What the wall  _ was _ , however, was in the way. “ _ Pull back, _ ” Dreadface ordered. “ _ Let them think they have driven us away to lick our wounds. We’ll get them when the sun goes down. _ ”

The human saluted and carried the order to the other humans. Dreadface knew the feeling of relief the defenders were exuding was not an illusion. They would use the time to catch their breath, rest, and prepare—but they wouldn't be prepared enough.

The human that Dreadface was aiming for was in the castle somewhere. The  _ pregnant _ human that Dreadface was aiming for.  Oh, he had such plans for that human!


	104. Cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Harry help repair the battlefield.

Wade heaved a bit of dirt into the hole and wondered, bitterly, why the spiders which had _dug_ the holes in the first place couldn't fix them. Harry stood, without a shovel or _any kind_ of tool, next to him. All around them were members of the army quickly working to fill the holes back in. After all, they couldn't risk random civilians getting hurt on this former field of war.

“We should be going,” Harry said impatiently.

“We’d be _going_ ,” Wade grunted, “a lot faster if you would _help_!” He manages to use the shovel to lever in a large pile of dirt.

“Our mates are sitting unprotected!” growled Harry.

Wade snorted. Harry kept underestimating both MJ and Peter. Mostly Peter. Being pregnant hadn’t killed the omega’s brain, and Wade never forgot. Harry, on the other hand, needed to be reminded periodically. “They’ll be fine,” Wade said. “They have a plan.”

“A plan?”

Did the alpha pay attention to _nothing_ ? Seriously, the planning was _all they did_ before the army left. “Peter thinks he might have a way shove the enemy entity out of its host,” Wade explained.

Actually, Peter’s explanation had less to do with “shoving the enemy entity out” and more to do with “making that egotistical asshole pay for his sins.” Wade wasn’t entirely certain what had happened between Peter and his father, but the omega had developed an un-priestly hatred for the alpha.

“We can’t let them fight alone!” exclaimed Harry in exasperation.

Wade’s shovel bit angrily into the ground as he turned to face Harry. “All right,” he growled. “We’ll go back and I’ll tell _both_ our mates all about how we left the battlefield a deadly trap for any curious child to get killed on.”

Harry paled and stalked away. Before Wade realized what was happening the other alpha returned with a shovel and began to help Wade fill the hole. “More hands, right?” he asked. Wade merely grunted in agreement.

“ _Too slow_.” They turned to see Eddie walking over with Unicorn by his side. The black tendrils of Venom detached slightly and ran along the side of the rider spider’s flank. Then Unicorn lowered its head to the ground and pushed the pile of dirt into the hole.

“I thought Peter was the only one who could talk to spiders like that,” commented Harry calmly as other rider spiders walked up to other holes and began imitating the humans.

Venom moved Eddie’s body in a shrug. “ _Blessing_ ,” it said simply.


	105. Whittling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ajax soldiers get into the castle, as they had planned. They meet more than they've bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot: Pet me.  
> Me: I've got to get this chapter up.  
> Spot: Pet me!  
> Me: I'm typing!  
> Spot: *throws himself against the keyboard* Pet me NOW!  
> Me: Okay.
> 
> In case you were wondering.

It was clear to those defending the castle that the invading army was expecting the darkness to ease their way. Felicia didn’t know if they’d forgotten, or never known, that Morphio were stronger after the sun set. Her golden eyes raked the courtyard, alert for movement.

Not all of the Morphio changed physically when the sun went down. Most of them  merely gained powers, most of them were healers. For Felicia and the other guardians, that was not the case. Felicia’s body grew lithe and her eyes changed to those of a cat’s.  Michael’s body became stronger, harder, and paler as his eyes grew red and he thirsted for blood. All Morphio thirsted for blood when the sun went down.

Which was why, when the invading army crested the walls after moon rise,  the Arachnids were nowhere to be seen defending their own castle.  The enemy humans paused at the base of the walls—but they had no idea what they were in for. Felicia’s golden eyes saw as Michael, looking like nothing more than one of the many shadows cast by the moonlight, quickly began to pick them off, draining them of their blood before moving on.

When he was satiated Kurt took him to another part of the castle to share his blood with healers and Felicia got to work.  She was just as quick as Michael; just as deadly—but even more unseen. She moved with the shadows, picking the soldiers off, taking the occasional drink of blood to keep her energy up.

A full contingent came over the wall. A quarter of them made it to the castle proper. The ones that were killed by Michael and Felicia were lucky; the two of them had been working border security long enough they knew how to hold back their darker selves. Their darker desires.

The ones inside the castle walls and halls had not. Screams echoed through the stone as the enemy were ripped apart—slowly.  The castle had been evacuated; most of the inhabitants gone, so the Morphio were free to let their darker desires out.

A slimy shadow with a skull-like face rose over the wall on long, thin tendrils before setttling on the ground in front of it. Felicia crouched, ready to take him on—until she remembered The Plan. High Priest Parker had a plan for this thing, this monster. Anything she did to it would only interfere. She ducked into the castle and swiftly shooed her brethren out of the way.  She did not know what tricks the Arachnids had, but she didn’t want her people getting caught in the middle.

She pressed into the shadows as the monster passed her. Chills rolled down her spine as sweat beaded on her face at the sight of the creature.  There was just something so incredibly— _ wrong _ about it. Something deadly. Something dangerous. She was both simultaneously thrilled that neither she nor her people would be facing it, and terrified for Peter, MJ, and Vanessa.  Did they know what they would be facing? Did they have any idea?

She closed her eyes and prayed that they would survive whatever it was they had planned.

 


	106. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreadface makes into the castle, and finds Mary Jane and Peter in a room with only one exit.

“Now,” Peter said softly. Vanessa and MJ heard him perfectly and Vanessa stepped back, blending into the shadows.

The former throne room (chosen because of its singular entrance and exit) was covered in woven webs. The patterns twisted into forms that pained the eye unfortunate enough to gaze on them. In the center of the woven formation was the crystal device that had been used to create the Crystal Gate. MJ carefully wove more spider silk rope into the design dictated by Peter.

Vanessa watched, warily. She didn’t understand how something like this was supposed to work, but she couldn't deny it was getting harder and harder to look at. “What is this?” she asked finally as the glow changed from a dim, white light to a sick, unhealthy yellow.

“The thing that the Ajax summoned does not belong in this world,” Peter said. “This will force it out of its host body.”

“It won’t hurt us,” MJ explained, “because we’re _supposed_ to be here. We were born and raised in this world, and this will have no effect on us.”

Peter smiled as he listened to MJ lecture her bodyguard on the magic they were using the spider silk to create. A bystander wouldn't be able to tell, just from listening that he’d had to explain it all to her beforehand. He’d needed help making the net; and none of the other priests could help him. This was nothing other than desperate magic, desperate measures.

This particular magic needed three things in order to work. It needed a power source (the crystal), it needed a conductor (the webbing), and it needed purpose. The purpose was where MJ, with her rigid training and single mindedness came in, where Peter with the mental training he’d received since he was a small child came in. Then there was the simultaneous desires that both of them had to protect their mates and their offspring.

Peter wouldn't lie to himself or his goddess. He knew that, despite the healing, despite the intervention of the goddesses themselves, that Wade, as a result of the torture, was always in pain. Oh, he brushed it off—but he _would_. Because of the harshness, the pain of the “training” that his father put him through, he was more than used to working through pain. Peter, knowing that the man had been tortured in the same way as his son, would like to see the king of Reaper take his first breath knowing that the rest of his miserable little life would be in constant pain.

Peter never claimed he was a good person. He knew exactly how vile he could be; he just usually repressed it better.

“Is this good enough?” asked MJ as she tied the last cord into place.

A low whistle sounded through the castle. “It will have to be,” Peter said grimly. “We’re out of time.”

Vanessa pressed herself against the wall as the door slammed open to reveal the monster. Both omegas, caught in the open as the bait of the trap, froze in place as the monster stood in the door. A grim smile split the white, skull-like face as the monster’s gaze settled on Peter. “ _Well, well,_ ” it said in a hissing voice. All three humans in the room shuddered involuntarily at the sound of its voice. “ _A pregnant priest, a pregnant Queen, and a mateless alpha. Delectable._ ” The thing grinned even wider.

Peter felt nervous sweat bead along his skin. What if he was wrong? What if it didn’t work?

Then he wouldn't live long enough to know. “Why are you here?” demanded Peter.

“ _I have a plan_ ,” the monster said as it stepped into the room. MJ began to tremble and Peter held out a hand to shield her, to let her know _this is not the right time_. Their timing has to be precise.

“What plan?” demanded Peter harshly.

“ _What power is there in a High Priest?_ ” asked the monster. It paused just on the inside of the door—still too far away. “ _What power is there in the Acolyte to All Goddesses?_ ” It took another step inwards. “ _What power is there in the child of the two?_ ”

Peter’s free hand drifted protectively over the child growing within him. “What are you planning?” he demanded as both he and MJ took a step back.

The monster took a step forward. “ _Relax,_ ” it crooned in a tone that almost physically _hurt_ . “ _I will not harm the child. I_ want _the child._ ”

“For what?” demanded MJ as she pulled Peter back another step.

The monster took another step towards them. “ _A host. A host with_ power _. This flimsy shell,_ ” the monster said with a wave of its arm, “ _is useless. It gave up its divine rights. An_ infant _though—an infant that will_ born _blessed is another matter._ ” Another step towards them. “ _Enough power to compensate for my lack. Enough power to destroy this pitiful world. Enough power to destroy_ it _._ ” Another step. “ _I will have that power!_ ”

“Now!” snapped Peter.

The low shining of the webs brightened into a fierce, blinding light. For a moment that light shone with the five colors of the goddesses—and then the colors were overtaken by a dark green light that wrapped around the monster.

“ _No!_ ” screamed the monster as it was forcibly removed from its host. “ _You can’t do this!_ ” The inky darkness was forced from the human body and the green light surrounded it in flames that destroyed it to the very last piece. The flames vanished—taking the webbing and the crystal with them.

Silence rang loudly through the room as the three, no— _four_ , humans stared in shock at what had happened. Suddenly the form on the floor began to laugh. “You think this will stop war?” demanded the scarred alpha as he glared at the two omegas in the room. “You poor, naive fools,” he spat. “Almost as worthless as the sows that birthed you. Shackled to pathetic, worthless alphas that aren’t even here to protect you.”

For years this man had stirred a fire of anger in Peter’s gut, a fire that he kept hidden. He kept it buried. Now the fire roared and consumed him. From the brief glimpse of MJ’s face that he got before he lost all reason, she was the same way.

Neither of them noticed when Vanessa slipped out of the room and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, that was intense! Fluff (mostly fluff) from here on out folks! :)


	107. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Harry race back to the castle in Arachne, desperate to make it there before the army.

The rider spiders, organic and robotic, raced across the countryside, moving at a pace few could equal while the army split itself into three separate groups—the ones who could move the fastest, the ones who were the slowest, and those who were between the two. Harry and Wade were, of course, with the quickest group, and managed to goad their spiders to go even faster. They’d had to leave behind armor (but Wade refused to leave behind his weapons—he was afraid he might need them when they reached the castle) and supplies in order to move quickly. Wade had even changed the saddles to something lighter, and Harry was shocked at how much faster the spiders were going.

The journey back to the castle both took too long and was far too short. Every moment Harry and Wade were dreading what they were going to see, hoping against hope that their mates were all right—and fearing that they weren’t. Wade didn’t know what was going through Harry’s head, but he kept having visions of finding Peter’s body—broken after having been tortured like he’d been tortured.

The only thing keeping the two alphas sane on the journey back to the castle was their bonds. Through their bonds they could sense that their mates’ were all right. Worried and frightened, but alive and not in pain.

Wade’s heart stuttered at the sight of the army in front of them as they raced to the walls. True, the army was broken. True, there were few left standing on his side of the walls. Also true was the clear evidence that the walls had been breached.

At that moment a surge of incoherent, incandescent rage hit him through the bond. If he’d been standing, he would have staggered. Something was wrong—he had to get Peter immediately!

As if reading his mind Unicorn bunched beneath him and leaped over the walls in a single bound before racing towards the building. He stood up in the saddle as she raced towards the door and used the force of her stopping to propel himself across the threshold. There was a thud behind him as Harry landed and followed him into the castle. They raced past broken, dead bodies and a small, clinical part of Wade’s mind couldn't help but notice that there was remarkably little blood for the injuries on the corpses.

They saw Vanessa, leaning against the wall outside the private throne room. The door was closed. “Vanessa!” he cried, the rage still surging through the bond making nervous.

She turned and raised a placid eyebrow at him. “They’re fine,” she said firmly.

“Why are you out here?” asked Harry.

Without another word Vanessa reached out and opened the door just far enough for Wade and Harry to see the grisly mess inside. For a moment the only sounds were those of moist tearing as flesh was ripped apart by hand. Vanessa closed the door again. “I thought they could use a little privacy,” she said. She shuddered slightly. “And I didn’t want to risk catching their attention while they’re like this,” she added.

Harry and Wade simply nodded. “Hey, Harry?” said Wade. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Yeah?” asked Harry warily, knowing far too much about Wade’s “deals” to just agree.

“Let’s try not to piss off our mates,” Wade said solemnly.

Harry’s mind drifted back to the carnage that was the inside of the throne room and he nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he agreed.

Vanessa shuddered. “Honestly,” she complained, “what idiot decided that they were helpless?”

“One who didn’t know them,” said Wade firmly.


	108. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ gets her pregnancy checked on by a healer.

The Morphio healer smiled as she retracted her hand from MJ’s stomach. “You’re having twins,” she said with a smile. “Two healthy babies.”

MJ rubbed her rounded belly with wry smile. “It’s nice to know that there’s a reason that  I’ve gotten so big so quickly.”

“You may wish to find two or three wet nurses to help you with the infants,” advised the healer.

Harry squeezed MJ’s hand and she smiled at him before he looked at the healer. “Can you tell what gender they are yet?” he asked.

The healer shook her head. “It’s too soon,” she protested.

Tony, sitting in the room, snorted. When Harry turned to look at him  he explained loftily, “ _ We _ have machines that can tell you what gender your babies are. There are  _ limits _ to natural healing.”

The healer, far from taking offense, merely smiled. “Perhaps,” she said demurely, “you should talk about these limits to Acolyte Wade? I feel certain he would have something to say.”

“ _Wade_ ,” Tony stressed, “already gave permission for us to use our technology on Peter. He’s having a boy, by the way. _And_ ,” Tony stressed, “our technology indicates that he’ll be omega when he presents.”

Pepper came into the room behind him and lightly smacked his head. “That same technology said  _ you _ were going to present as an omega,” she scolded lightly.

“Well, nothing’s foolproof,” muttered Tony rebelliously.

MJ and Harry chuckled at the interaction. There was something about Pepper and Tony that was like Wade and Peter. “ And where is Peter?” he asked warmly. He didn’t think Peter would miss something like this.

Pepper sighed. “He’s dealing with his new—subjects,” she said.

MJ shuddered. When they had revealed the information that Peter had killed the former Ajax king, they had expected for either fighting or surrender. Those were the reactions that made sense to the people in Arachne.

They had  _ not _ expected for Peter to promptly be  _ crowned _ king of Ajax. Harry sighed and held his mate a little closer. “Who knew that they had such a barbaric custom?” he wondered.

MJ nodded. She wondered how Peter, her gentle friend, was handling them. Especially since, now that his father was dead, Wade was now the king of Reaper. How would the two of them make that work?


	109. Reparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, now King of Ajax, gives his new countrymen an order they're not sure they can follow.

Peter glared at the trembling man in front of him. Why, why in the name of the five goddesses, were they making this so  _ difficult _ ? “And?” he demanded darkly. The man in front of him paled even further.

“Now, Peter,” said Wade as he came up behind his mate, wrapping the smaller omega in a hug. Despite his irritation, despite his anger, he couldn't help but melt into his mate’s embrace. Wade further soothed the irritated omega by rubbing slow, lazy circles on his baby bump. “Perhaps we should give them a chance to explain _why_?”

Reminded of the idiot in front of him, Peter opened narrowed eyes at the quivering man. “All right,” he said viciously, tensing again, “ _ why _ can’t you  build temples?”

The man swallowed. Peter wasn’t entirely certain why the man was so frightened of him. He didn’t really care. “Sire,” said the man respectfully, “we have—we have renounced the goddesses. We no longer have their blessings.”

“Hmm.” Wade’s chest rumbled with the sound as he hooked his chin over Peter’s shoulder and breathed lightly into Peter’s neck. “That _is_ a pretty pickle,” he admitted.

Peter gave him a sharp elbow jab to the rib. “Not in public!” he hissed to his mate.

Wade released him and grinned, unrepentant. “No?” he asked as the skin where his eyebrows used to be wiggled. “In private? Later?”

Peter waved him away, but a flush and a slight grin gave away his thoughts. “Maybe,” he admitted to Wade’s obvious delight. “In Spot’s clearing?” he asked, knowing that there just wasn’t any privacy to be had in their own quarters.

Wade whooped like a small child getting a treat. “Oh, yeah!” he said. “We’re gonna have fun!” He grinned and saluted his mate. “And since,” he said brightly, “I can’t imagine what sweet torture waiting is going to be, I’m off to torture the soldiers!”

“Don’t forget Harry needs them back!” Peter called after his mate as the hyper man bounded off before turning back to the simpering man in front of him. He sighed. “Why don’t you just beg for the goddesses’ forgiveness?” he asked.

“What?”

Perhaps the man was hard of hearing. “Go into the temple,” he ordered, “and pray. Pray to be forgiven for your trespass and beg for your blessings back.” Peter jerked a thumb towards the temple in irritation. “There’s a huge temple right there,” he said firmly.

“But—that’s a temple to the Arachnid Goddess!” protested the man.

Perhaps he was simple as well. “It is true,” Peter admitted, “that the temple was designed and built for the Goddess of Arachne. However,” he added, “what is said in one temple can be heard by all five of the goddesses.”

“I—I beg your pardon, Sire, but you are a priest of Arachne—”

“I am the _High_ Priest of Arachne,” stressed Peter, “and my mate is Acolyte to all five goddesses. I _know_.”

“I—yes, Sire,” said the man with a salute. He got up and, carefully not looking at his new liege lord, backed away from Peter’s presence.

Peter suppressed a growl at the man’s attitude. “Whoa!” said a voice behind him. “ _ Someone’s _ cranky.”

He turned to face Gwen. “Of course I’m cranky.” He gestured to the Ajax irritably. “You’d be cranky too!”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded knowingly. “And, of course, this crankiness has _everything_ to do with the people who look at you like you’re the only thing standing between them and damnation and _nothing_ to do with the fact that you and your mate haven’t gotten any uninterrupted ‘alone’ time in almost a moon.” Peter glared at her and she just grinned at him. “Everyone knows about it.”

“Everyone?” asked Peter, horrified at the ramifications.

Gwen sighed. “Peter, you’re the High Priest priest of Arachne.  _ Before _ all of this happened the alphas at court saw you as an untouchable jewel that just happened to be gracing the halls of the temple and palace with your presence.” Gwen ignored Peter’s strangled protest and carried on. “ _ Then _ you single-handedly led a rescue on  _ foreign _ land—”

“Both Harry and Felicia were leading—” Peter protested.

Gwen ignored him. “—you mated the alpha that you rescued, got kidnapped by a country killing priests only to be rescued once again—uninjured, unharmed—and got made the king of said country. Of  _ course _ everyone is watching the two of you! And,” she added with implacable honesty, “they’re probably just a little scared of what will happen when the two of you breed.”

Peter stared at her for a moment. “I’m already pregnant!” he protested. In additional protest, the baby inside kicked—not that anyone from the outside could tell yet. He rubbed a circle on his stomach, but it didn’t have the same effect on the developing young as when Wade did it.

Gwen grinned. “And aren’t you  _ glad _ ?” she asked sweetly. “Imagine how hard it would be to get that way with people bursting into your rooms at every moment of the night.” Peter groaned and she pat him on the shoulder. “Now, go and kidnap your mate before he traumatizes our borrowed soldiers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right my lovely little audience--this is where I want to know what you think the baby names should be! (And I'm not updating this fic until I get some, so comment.) Due to my continued difficulties with Strawpoll (or Strawpoll's difficulties with my firewall, not sure which), I am unable to run a poll. So! Harry and Mary Jane are having twins--one boy, one girl. Wade and Peter are having a son. Names would be greatly appreciated. (And I'm not posting a new chapter until I get some. I am holding the rest of this fic hostage.) Can't wait to hear from you! :)


	110. Labor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because even after the battle there's paperwork. Especially when someone first becomes royalty.

Mary Jane, Queen of Arachne, knew that her friend was in trouble. She understood the issues facing him and his mate. “This may sound like a strange question,” she said, “but why don’t you just merge the two kingdoms into one?”

“The goddesses,” Peter said with a sigh, “don’t like that idea. They say that it’ll upset the balance of power.” He leaned his head against one hand as he regarded the map between the two of them despondently. “I even tried to give it to Venom, but it didn’t want to be king.”

MJ snorted. “ _Eddie_ doesn’t want to be king,” she retorted.

Peter smiled wearily. “I don’t blame him. _I_ don’t want to be king.” He rubbed his eyes and MJ knew he was trying not to think too hard on _how_ he became king of Ajax.

She tried not to think about it herself. She’d had no idea that she could be so—so violent. A sharp pain in her abdomen broke her concentration for a moment.

“Part of the problem,” Peter acknowledged, “is _how_ the Ajax choose a king. Apparently, it’s been tradition far longer than any of us suspected for the next in line to kill the one holding the throne.”

MJ frowned as she rubbed her distended stomach. “How did that start?” she asked.

He sighed. “I have no idea. I’m trying,” he said bitterly as another sharp pain pierced her, “to set up an inheritance system, but there are two problems.”

MJ rubbed her stomach, hoping that would dull the pain. “What are they?” she asked, to have something else to focus on.

“The goddesses have turned everyone who could have had an active part in the country renouncing them into betas,” Peter said. He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. “The only ones spared from this are the children—younger than thirteen,” he clarified, “and those so far out in the countryside that they have absolutely no political power.”

“So,” translated MJ around the waves of pain emanating from her abdomen, “those too young to present, and those out in the boonies.”

“Yeah.” Peter sighed again. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted. “The whole country, aside from almost all of the functioning adults now being betas, is a mess. And you’re in labor.”

MJ was not ashamed to admit that it took a few minutes for the change in topic to register with her. The tone of Peter’s voice hadn’t changed at bit. He was still casual, still slightly annoyed with Ajax.

“Myles,” Peter called out. If another wave of pain hadn’t hit her she would have jumped at the way the preteen appeared next to Peter, almost as though he’d been invisible. “Please get and send a healer and Commander Osborn.” Peter paused for a moment before adding, “in that order.”

Miles grinned cheekily before jumping to the ceiling and crawling out. MJ watched him go. “I thought that was your trick,” she said as calmly as she could.

“He was Blessed last week,” Peter replied, just as calmly. “Harry’s going to be frantic.”

MJ smirked. She knew this much about birthing, at least. “Alphas usually are,” she said calmly. She rubbed her belly again when another sharp pain hit her. “Why didn’t I realize?” she asked with a frown. Now, now that she was aware of it, she could feel the twin lives within her resettling so they could leave their warm womb. Given how close they were to the canal, she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t felt them sooner.

“You’re too ingrained to ignore pain and discomfort,” Peter said bluntly. At her look he held up his hands in a placating manner. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” he continued, “just why you didn’t notice immediately. Have the two of you picked names yet?”

“What about you?” asked MJ. She grit her teeth through another labor pain.

Peter waited for it to pass before he answered. “Wade and I are thinking that ‘Matthew’ would be a good name,” he said calmly.

The door to the small room opened and Harry was not calm at all. He rushed in, gently picked MJ up, and then carried her out; presumably towards the healers. Wade drifted into the room behind the frantic alpha.

“This is why I told Myles to go to the healer’s _first_ ,” Peter said wearily.

Wade snorted. “You really think they had a chance of getting here before him when that kid delivered the news?” he asked.

“Are you going to be just as bad?” asked Peter curiously.

Wade winked. “Honey,” he said amiably, “I’m going to be _worse_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my foster brother brought home a kitten. She terrifies my cats and (more importantly) likes to attack my fingers while I type. May take a while to get the next chapters up. Thank you Guitarlovechild for the name of Peter and Wade's baby! :) I love it! <3


	111. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and MJ's two children have a public ceremony to accept the blessings of the goddesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I want to give a big shout-out and thank you to BeccaWorm, Entirety17, Marvel_Lover200, and an extra-special shout out and thank you to Guitarlovechild for helping me find the names I needed for this story! Love you all! <3

Peter, as High Priest (although he’d had to make a new set of robes since they weren’t designed for the increasing bulk of a pregnant omega), solemnly watched as the twin infants (about to be named) were presented to the goddesses in a public ceremony. MJ and Harry both held an infant (Harry the girl and MJ the boy, so marked by the single color tunics in red and blue they were wearing). The two rulers knelt on the ground, infants in their arms.

Peter looked at the Royal couple. “Do you,” he asked, “accept, on behalf of the new lives in your care, the blessings of the goddesses?”

The two spoke as one, knowing their roles. “We do,” they said simply.

Peter clasped his hands in front of him and began the ceremonial prayer. “Great Merciful Goddesses,” he intoned, calling publicly on all five of the goddesses, “we mere mortals humbly beg your protection and blessings on these two new lives, that they may live and thrive in this world.”

Not all infants received a public blessing. Most were taken to their local temple, where they were blessed by the priest and became able to accept blessings from the goddesses. For the average person, that was more than sufficient.

However, royalty demanded more. Well, the _people_ demanded more of royalty; MJ and Harry would have been more than happy to bring the two into the temple for an informal ceremony. So the general public got their show of what would have happened in the interior of the temple. He hoped those of Ajax still mingled with the crowd were impressed. He hoped they regretted renouncing the goddesses. He really, _really_ hoped he could figure out a way to deal with them.

Octavius, in training to be a temporary High Priest until the Goddess chose a new one, stood at Peter’s left. Myles, the young one that Peter strongly suspected was being groomed by the goddess to be the next High Priest, stood at Peter’s right. Both gazed solemnly down at the crowd below them. Wade, standing behind Peter, only had eyes for the heavily pregnant omega.

Normally, there was a small bit of light and slight bit of warmth to indicate that the child had been Blessed. For this occasion, it seemed as though the goddesses were as determined to put on a show as Peter was—a bright shaft of golden light pierced the chilly gray skies to envelop parents, infants, and priests in bright warmth. Motes of color swam through the golden light and only Peter noticed a few of those motes separated from the group heading towards the infants to drift over and land on both Myles and Octavius.

The mere light was surprising enough. Then images began to form in the light and, recognizing their goddesses, the majority of the people knelt. Peter due to his heavy pregnancy, didn’t and Wade, standing as Peter’s support, did not. Both men recognized the goddesses as the image developed. The white haired goddess, hair obscuring her eyes, looked at Peter. He could see a smile on the lower half of her face.

**well done My priest.** The goddess moved her head between Wade and Peter. **well done indeed.**

The purple haired goddess spoke, addressing the people. _we have been asked for guidance in the matter of the kingdom of Ajax._

The golden haired goddess took up the verbal reigns. ** our countries have been separate for far too long. **

The black haired goddesses spoke. **_it is time for all the countries to share; share their learning, their beliefs, and their powers_ ** _._

The red haired goddess continued. **_ the High Priest of Arachne has suggested the two kingdoms of Ajax and Reaper become twin kingdoms ruled by both himself and his mate _ ** _ .  _

The white haired goddess spoke. **so have we agreed.** Before the crowd could say anything, or do anything, she continued. **however, the child the High Priest and his mate are having has his own destiny, and so we have made a decision.**

_these two of royal blood, of humble hearts, will choose the next rulers of Ajax and Reaper when the time comes._

The golden haired goddess flung her arms wide. **let us celebrate and feast for a glorious future!**

The black haired goddess drifted towards Wade and Peter, and, as the white haired goddess had done at first, spoke only to the two of them. _**are you happy?**_ The goddess sounded—anxious.

Wade reached out and drew his mate to him before grinning at the goddess who had refused to allow him to die all that time ago. “Exceptionally happy,” he assured her.

The goddess nodded and then turned to the rest of the gathering. _**let it be known to all: this is the beginning of a new age!**_

Peter shouted, above the rising cheer of the crowd, “Let us all welcome the newly blessed Norman and Karina!”

The next cheer was, impossibly, even louder than the one that had preceded it.


	112. Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three friends spar with and complain to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we lost two people at work. I'm scheduled all next week, which WILL put a cramp in my writing style. (I will figure out how to get my vacation. I WILL make that stupid program work.) In the meantime--I'm thinking of making this the final chapter. Let me know if it's good to end here, or if it needs more. (I can go either way.) 
> 
> As always, not beta read and more tired than usual, so please forgive (and point out--I can't fix a problem I don't know about like I keep TELLING my coworkers) any mistakes you may find.

The two children, one slightly smaller than the other, each stood facing each other staves ready. Two adults and another child were watching the two intently as rider spiders stood nearby chittering as they watched. One of the adults looked from one child to the other and said, “Ready? Begin.”

Clacks were all that could be heard as the two wooden staves repeatedly hit against each other. The hits sped up until both children were moving quickly, almost too quickly to be seen. Suddenly the smaller one dropped and swept the stave he was using in a motion that knocked the other off his feet.

The adult who had called the match sighed. “I know,” he said wryly, “that your father doesn’t believe me, but posture _is_ important.” The scarred man reached down to help the boy back up.

The boy glared at his sparring partner. “Are you sure you’re really blind?” he asked accusingly.

The other boy smiled mildly, vacant eyes not moving. “I’m sure my eyes don’t work,” he said calmly.

The girl stood up and stretched. “Well that was fun,” she said. “Not,” she added snarkily.

“Like you could do better,” growled the boy.

“Norman. Karina.” The second adult was firm. “Enough.”

Both twins rolled their eyes. “ _Fiiine_ ,” they whined in unison. Both adults sighed at the dirty looks the two shot each other, but said nothing.

The twins were both just like each other and wildly different. Both shared the vibrant red hair of their parents, had their mother’s green eyes as opposed to their father’s blue ones. Both had similar body structures. Norman took after his father; he took to weapon training like a spider took to bread. He devoured everything he learned and was always looking for more.

Karina was something that hadn’t been seen outside of Mysterio since the five kingdoms were originally founded. Where her brother could use almost any weapon with ease, she could use magic. The manipulation of energy came easily to her, almost too easily. Tony had wanted to adopt her. She hadn’t yet hit a limit on what she could do with her power, and the adults worried that when she ran into that wall it would destroy her.

Norman’s opponent—son of the High Priest of Arachne and First Acolyte of All—was slightly eerie. No one understood why the boy was blind—the best technology in Mysterio hadn’t been able to figure it out, but his eyes hadn’t worked from day one. He also usually had an unnatural stillness to him, as if he was listening to something no one else could hear. Despite his handicap, he was even better at fighting than Norman was.

Matthew, also known as Matt, had the same dark brown hair as the High Priest, but the bright blue eyes of the Acolyte (even if those eyes didn’t work quite right). He ate more than anyone else, but was still stick thin despite his fighting ability. He also tended to respond to events in his vicinity with almost a precognitive ability.

Karina flung herself on the ground as the adults wandered off. Her rider spider, Rainbow, came up and nudged the girl’s shoulder with its head and she absently pet it around the large horn protruding from its head. “I don’t know how you stand it,” she growled as she pet her spider. Rainbow put a foreleg around the girl in a spidery hug and chirred comfortingly.

“Stand what?” asked Matt, his voice vague and far away as though he wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation at hand.

The shadows around the children slowly grew starker.

Norman scoffed. “How the grown-ups alternate between being _way_ overprotective to being sure that each and every single move is about to kill you,” he answered for his twin. Neither of them commented on how he still seemed vague, because they were both used to it. To them, the vagueness was a simple personality quirk of their friend.

Matt smiled slightly. “I do not believe that people have the same expectations of me that they do of the two of you,” he said softly.

Karina groaned. “Tell me about it,” she complained. Her voice went high and mocking, “ ‘And one day’,” she quoted, “ ‘you will find the true rulers of Ajax and Reaper and put them on the vacant thrones’.”

Norman dropped to the ground and began pulling out tufts of grass as his rider spider, Star Blaze, nuzzled him gently. “Not that anyone tells what we need to look for, or how we’re supposed to know, or anything,” he griped.

The shadows grew darker still, and began moving towards the children.

“Perhaps,” said Matt carefully, “you’ll know in time. It might be a revelation from one of the Goddesses. In any case,” he said, “we’re still children. You have time.” The other two sighed and he added, “I can smell Cook making her famous sweet bread.”

The hopes of not one, but two kingdoms resting on their shoulders did _nothing_ to slow them down as they leaped to their feet and took off (going slightly faster than their rider spiders) towards the kitchen to beg for bread.

Without looking Matt stabbed the approaching shadow with his stave and light pulsed destroying it. The only shadows left were the ones the sun cast against the ground. Matt’s own rider spider, Drum, nudged him gently. Matt sighed as he pet his spider. “ _They_ have time,” he complained to the silent creature—as silent as he was blind. “Me, not so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I had to. Just because Fabytherabbit asked me to. :)
> 
> Edit: I decided to just go ahead and end the story here--because if I add more to this AU, then it's going to follow these three characters and not the original ones. So, if I do that, I'm going to make it part of a series and just update as a sequel.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome. :)


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